Be Careful What You Put Online

I wrote A Standard for Love on August 22, 2016.


A Standard for Love


My brother and I are just over a year apart in age.  We shared a bedroom when growing up.  (We also shared the same parents.)

Sometimes we would stay awake, when we were supposedly going to sleep, and talk about the girls and women we loved.  The girls were classmates around our ages (7 and 8) and the women were adult neighbors and teachers.

We had a standard, in the form of a question, that determined just how much we were in love with the person we were talking about.  I don’t know which one of us came up with this standard/question, but we used it on each other.  After one of us finished talking about the love of our life, the other would ask this question.  “Yes” meant that it was a serious, everlasting love.  “No” meant it was only a passing fancy.

One time I went on about Miss Lotsberg, my Grade 3 teacher.  Oh how I loved Miss Lotsberg!  She was pretty and pretty and oh so pretty!  I knew that there was a chance for me because it was Miss Lotsberg.  She was still single.

My brother waited until I finished and then he asked, “Would you eat Miss Lotsberg’s poop?”

“Yes!” I said without hesitation.  “Yes!  Yes!  Yes!”

There would have been doubt about the depth of my love if I had hesitated.  And it would not have been a serious love at all if I had answered, “No.”

I don’t know when my brother and I outgrew the poop question as a standard for love.  One day something, or someone, flushed it from our lives never to be asked again.


When I wrote this blog, I debated with the voices in my head as to whether I should use Miss Lotsberg’s real name.  “What the hell?”  I thought.  “She has probably passed on, and there is no Internet in the afterlife.

Surprise.  Surprise.  Surprise.

Sunday night, I received an email from Miss Lotsberg’s nephew.  He had recently read the August 22nd, 2016 blog.  He wanted to contact me to let me know that he enjoyed it and shared it with his aunt, Miss Lotsberg.   He said that she is in her 80s and overflowing with energy.  She remembered me and my brother.  Naturally, she did not like the standard for love that I had mentioned in the blog.  But she was delighted that I had remembered her.

Wow!  I would never have thought that Miss Lotsberg would have seen the blog.  I am embarrassed and amused.   I should be more careful about what I put online, but I likely won’t be.

Good health to Miss Lotsberg!  I am no longer angry with her for getting married and ruining my chances for living happily ever.

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About the Author

I am Minnie and Chic's son.