When I was a little kid, my dad used to roughhouse with me and my brother on the living-room carpet. My brother and I would get up and run away, with fun-terror pounding in our hearts, but Dad would catch one of us and make a “scissors” with his legs and put our torsos in the leg scissors and squeeze us until we farted. We laughed and squealed hysterically the whole time. We’re all grownups now, whose only bodily contact is a handshake. But once upon a time, when we were all younger, there was that greater physical closeness between siblings, and between parents and children. Like, my dad would never spank or swat me, a middle-aged adult, now. But he did occasionally back then (and it didn’t damage me one bit, either — today’s young parents take note!). I guess that’s what gives family its privileged status, different from all other relationships in life.

MORAL: It is strange to think back on your youth and how different your relationship with your parents was when you were little.

EMPHASIS PROBLEM: The fart-squeezing thing?

[Read Improper Emphasis Story #1]