When I was about seven years old and my brother was 14, we would often join my father in the morning in his bathroom while he was shaving. You see, Dad had created a fantasy factory for us. Our imaginary company made a delicious cereal called Corn Plops and an equally yummy breakfast drink called Pow Juice. Each of us had our designated jobs. Dad was our team leader. Working together our production line produced breakfast products at a pace that seemed like the speed of light. Invariably problems would occur in our processes and we would make corrections. We didn’t want to disappoint our customers. As the youngest, sometimes things would get pretty intense for me. After all, the game was totally in our imaginations. If I missed an assignment Dad got me back on track. There was never any condemnation and each shift concluded with the words “job well done.”
(To be continued.)
