The beating started at dawn.  Neanderdad was sleeping in bed.  All was at peace.  Then the boy came in and started thumping his rubbery fist against Neanderdad’s slumbering skull.  At first the thumps weren’t hard enough to hurt.  However, they did interrupt a glorious dream in which Neanderdad had been driving hundreds of long-nosed mammoths off a cliff and onto a giant, valley-sized dinner plate.   His entire tribe had been cheering him and banging drums.  These drums began to match the rhythm of the boy’s fist as it pounded Neanderdad toward consciousness.  When the boy spoke, Neanderdad’s happy dream evaporated into a hard reality.   Continue reading →