My son was six years old when he strolled through the doors of my sister’s house, whom we happened to be visiting at the time, and announced that he needed “tools.”
Assuming he meant play tools, my sister and I both made a grab for the Fisher Price tool box.
Giving us a look of disgust, he rolled his eyes and said, “And what am I supposed to do with this? I mean, “real” tools; the kind you use to build a fort.”
Curious I asked, “Who’s building a fort with you?”
Exasperated he said, “Mom, I’m in a club and we’re building a club house, or fort, or whatever you call it.”
“A club? Who else is in the club?”
“You know, kids that live around here and the cousins (his generic way of referring to my nephews).”
“And are all of you members of the club?”
“And how do you know this?
“Mom, I just know, okay? Can I have some tools now?”
Fast forward thirteen years and in what seems like a completely unrelated event, the very thoughtful Una from Curvy Everyday has the sweet gesture of writing a blog post about my blog’s first anniversary.
And she includes the phrase “Circle of Bloggers” in her title post.
As I scream, woot woot, and dance around the house with Roxy to the dance video she’s included in her post, the son comes downstairs and asks what the ruckus is about.
I beam with pride and show him Una’s post.
As he reads the posts he asks, “Circle of Bloggers? What’s that?”
“It’s a group of people who blog, honey.”
“You mean, like a club or something?”
“Something like that.”
“And how do you know you belong to this ‘Circle of Blogger’ club?”