Deep Dark Secrets

This post is family dynamics 101.

Ginger's Grocery


“Mom, I want a diary.”

“William, you’re five years old, what do you want with a diary?” I asked.

“To write in.” William said. “I want a diary. The kind you can lock with a key.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, so Carrie can’t read it.” he said. He scowled. Motioned toward his sister’s room. “I don’t want her knowing all my deep dark secrets.”

William went on like this for weeks. He practiced copying words he saw, words he liked, on sheets of paper he found around the house. On post-it notes. On the lines of filler paper he looted from his sister’s binder. On sheets of immaculate, white printer paper from his dad’s office. None of it was quite what he wanted.

“I want a diary. That locks. And Carrie isn’t allowed to read it, only me.”

He finally got the diary yesterday; a Christmas gift from his Mimi. When…

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