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H. Neal Glanville

H. Neal Glanville's column appears in the Craig Daily Press on Mondays.

As the girls grew, we gave them the same encouragement and creative freedom I had been given by my beloved grandparents and Aunt Ruthie.

Each time they wanted to try something new, we'd give it a go. I did, however, utilize Aunt Ruthie's rule: "Whatever you try, learn and understand the basics before you give up."

This rule didn't always meet with the girl's approval, but we did manage to learn quite a bit together.

Did you know that besides being a great breakfast food, tuna surprise will stay good for 21 hours when properly hidden under your bed?

I also learned that some versions of Angel Food Cake aren't fit for men, large dogs or the bravery of the girls' little brother, Kris.

When the twins entered junior high, they decided the track team was the place to be. As life would have it, the girls excelled.

If they didn't win outright, they finished with a ribbon. All my advice about team effort, the joy of competition and lessons waiting to be learned with a loss fell on deaf ears.

Our sheep dog was learning more about sportsmanship than the girls. If their heads got any bigger, I'd need a night job to pay for all their new hats.

What was a father to do? A starter's pistol went off in my head, or maybe beside it.

A race, I'd challenge them to a race.

In accepting my challenge, the girls were quite charitable. Their laughter didn't start until the bedroom door closed.

Years later, Eileen told me they muffled most of their giggles with pillows and a sheet.

News of the race swept through, and there would be no backing out.

Honestly, the only thing that would have saved me was the immediate breakage of a leg.

Since that wasn't going to happen, out came my P.F. Flyers. Maybe I wasn't going to win, but I'd be the only 32-year-old idiot wearing Flyers.

The race course was simple. Start at Ledford and Sixth, run to the city pool, touch the fence and run (or for me, attempt to run) home. My fate was sealed the nanosecond I said go.

The girls were at the pool before I made it to Breeze Street. They were resting so comfortably when my hand finally touched the fence that I felt bad having them continue, but the race had to be finished.

My only concerns? Pulling my purple fingers from the fence and hoping a passing ambulance would give me a ride home.

As I started my whatever-you-want-to-call-it way back to the finish line, I saw the girls skipping.

That's right, skipping. My own flesh and blood skipping into victory lane. It was time for a little old-fashioned trickery.

I called out to the girls to wait up, and we started walking home together.

We laughed and talked about everything and nothing.

As we neared the chain-link fence behind Sunset Meadows, I asked the girls if they were ready. "Ready, ready for what?" Eileen asked.

"Go!" I yelled, giving my take off all I could, hoping for a close third, instead of finishing after dark and missing dinner.

The girls weren't that far behind, laughing and calling me a cheater, when we all fell on the grass, as the girls laughed some more and I sucked air.

"That wasn't fair, Dad, you cheated" Ericca said.

"Did I?" I gasped. "You chose to quit and walk with me, thinking the race over. I chose to finish it differently than what you had bragged about."

Until next time ...

Yup, there I was, surrounded when I said to myself, "Self" I said ('cuz that's what I call myself when I'm talking to myself) "Ericca's career as a bookie may have started with that race. As I recall, the odds were 17 to 1 that I'd make it to the park and 34 to 1 I'd finish with a heart beat."

Thank you for your time.