Originally posted at my Wordpress site "Growing in Greenwood"
My dad washed dishes while I stood on a chair rinsing to the rhythm of the crackling radio play-by-play for Twins games. My focus was on the way my fingertips looked like raisins, on the enormity of the blue veins in dadís arms, on perfecting my drying rack Jenga strategy. Baseball was just background noise.
My grandparentís house a few blocks away was my one source of television. There, the