About Norman T. Leonard
Welcome to…
But first, we laugh.
When I was in the fifth grade, I saw a grandmother at a park scolding her grandson. She had about a half dozen coarse chin whiskers and a wooden leg. The little boy was crying so hard he could barely breathe after having dropped his Sidewalk Sundae onto the sidewalk (returning from whence it came, I suppose).
“I have diabetes,” the grandmother growled. “That’s something to cry about!