Over the hedge: Just an ordinary broomstick

I wasn't aware my 3-year-old son Nick's imagination had run amok until the mailman was concerned for his well-being.

After he observed Nick standing in the middle of the garage, crying and straddling a broom, he banged on my door.

When I opened the door, he asked, "Why are you making your son sweep the garage on such a hot day? Haven't you heard of child-labor laws?"

For an instant, I was dumfounded. Usually, our friendly mailman, a father-to-be, whistled a merry tune as he delivered our mail.

But then I realized he had no inkling that my son's world was one of make-believe, and that he was enthralled with the new television series, "Bewitched."

"You don't understand," I said, chuckling. "He's crying because the broom won't fly."

The mailman howled with laughter and then replied, "I hope I'm ready to be a father."

Georgia A. Hubley

Henderson, Nev.

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