Putting On The Big Boots


By DeAnn (Wolkow) Kruempel
Posted 3/9/22

I walked in the kitchen door. Mom’s gaze immediately fell to my knees. Two jagged holes were framed by dirt-encrusted blue fabric. Twisted, ragged threads drooped sadly around each gash. Mother’s pale-blue eyes quickly lifted to mine. “Are your knees scraped bad?”

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