We did our usual Wednesday running around and finally landed back at the house around 4:30. Granddaddy gave me a letter I had received today. At first glance he said, "I'll bet he's died." After looking at the letter I thought, "Hmm, he can't be dead because he addressed the letter to us himself, unless he was planning to be dead."
I opened the letter wondering why he had written. I hadn't talked to him or heard from him since right after Christmas. I had gotten a note in my usual Christmas card, telling me he had lost his beloved wife in February of the previous year. That was a shock to me. I had attempted to contact him with phone numbers I had before they moved into an assisted living facility, about three or four years earlier. I had no luck and was very afraid I had lost contact with him after all this time.
After a little skip tracing which I had learned on the job years ago, I decided to contact the facility directly. I was told they couldn't give me his telephone number and I understood that. They did offer to take my name and number an promised to make sure he would get it. They thought he may still be out of town for the holidays, visiting his oldest son and his wife in the North Georgia mountains.
I had decided to get and mail a sympathy card just in case I didn't get in touch with him within the next few days. I can't tell you how very difficult it is to express your condolences to someone who enjoyed a happy, wonderful life with their spouse of 60 or more years. I managed to type out (I know that's not good manners, but nothing would be sent if I couldn't type it out) a few of my feelings and had gone to the post office and mailed it.
We had not been home very long that afternoon when the phone rang and I answered to his old familiar, deep voice. He had returned home; they had given him my message and phone number and he returned my call.
He and I talked for quite a while re-hashing lots of old memories from our past that spanned an over-all period of a couple of years short of 50 years. I listened while he talked of his loss. We chatted about the good old days. I made a promise to myself I wouldn't let so much time pass between phone calls next time.
The last time I had talked with him was around five years earlier. I had not gotten my yearly Christmas card and I was very afraid something had happened to one of them. I was afraid of what my search would reveal. I had called his son's house to talk with his son. He lived next door to his parents and I knew he could give me an update. I didn't get him, but I did have a nice talk with his your high school aged son who happened to be home that night. I explained to him who I was and why I was calling. He assured me that his Granddaddy and Grandmother were indeed just fine. He couldn't explain the reason I hadn't gotten my yearly card, but he could assure me they were fine. He suggested I call them at their house maybe the next day.
I did, but I got an answering machine and decided I would just leave a message. That happened to be on a Friday before we were leaving to go out of town to help my daugher and son-in-law finish their moved to Knoxville. I was going to help my daughter finish up with putting the finishing touches on the kitchen, etc. and we were going to have a few days together before she went back to work there.
It didn't work out quite like we had planned. I fell the first night we were there as we were headed out for dinner around 8:00 that night. I had been warned plenty of times to watch that bottom step, but somehow I just didn't remember it and I fell up the step and after giving it some thought I decided perhaps I should go to the doctor and have it checked out. I found out I had broken my wrist. This stopped all our plans. It was the day before Granddaddy's birthday. I had baked a birthday cake for him. But the visit with our daughter had been shortened by the broken bone.
We returned home and I found a message on my telephone. He had gotten my message and had returned the call. I suspect his grandson had told him I had tried to get in touch with him. We enjoyed a visit over the phone then and that would be the last verbal visit we would have until January of this year.
As I opened the letter today I found a picture on the front of a memorial card and an obituary from a local newspaper. It was a write-up of his oldest son. It covered the events of his life from his days of graduating from college with an engineering degree to his jobs in the construction field where he had advanced on to supervising lots of major projects including building the hotels of a very large chain in several states. He had been a pilot of 20 years. He had constructed several large subdivisions in the area. He had done major work and continued it for many years at a large airport in the area and then moved on to another town and was working in the same line. He had an amazing and interesting work ethic. Who would be surprised. He had been raised by two good role models.
It isn't supposed to be that way. You aren't supposed to out-live your children. But he had out-lived his oldest son.
I went to my computer to find the telephone number to call him to let him know how much I was feeling his sorrow. I knew I had put the number down in my address system. But somehow I hadn't. I don't know what went wrong because I knew I had it in one of two places, but I couldn't find it in the other place either.
I went on my second skip tracing to find the telephone number. I would call the assisted living facility once again. Only they weren't using the same name. After about half an hour of figuring and refiguring I finally found the number. Apparently not because nobody answered at the number I had. I called the only other remaining number and luck would have it, someone answered.
I explained I had his number once before but somehow I had misplaced it and requested they once again take my name and number and ask him to call me when he felt up to talking.
I had figured he would be at his dinner meal around 5:00 so I waited for him to call back.
He did, about 30-45 minutes later.
He was devastated by his son's death as was to be expected. We talked for a while going from the sad times to the happier times. This was his third loss in close to four years. He had lost his oldest granddaughter in a terrible accident when a woman had hit her car while she was going to a college class with some friends. She was driving and the woman hit her head on and killed her and maybe another girl or two.
It was a life wasted. She had gotten her medical degree from another college and was working on a scholarship in forensics. She was a very bright young lady. A very good girl. She didn't deserve what happened to her. They didn't deserve what had happened to them through her loss. Sometimes life just doesn't have answers.
He was still mourning the death of his beautiful wife, now he has to deal with his oldest child's death. His son had known his health problems for around three years. Then two years ago he had been diagnosed with leukemia. He chose not to let any of his family, except his wife, know what was going on. He made her promise not to tell anyone else. That's a big burden to carry.
Even when his mom died a little over a year ago, he still wouldn't let his dad know about his health problems. In some ways you might think he was selfish not to let him know, but maybe he knew just how hard it has been on him for the last months. He didn't want to add anything else to his sadness.
This son was a fine young man. I never in all the years I knew them, did I ever hear of any problems he gave his parents. Over all he apparently was loved by many even outside his family. So much sadness.
On a lighter note he asked me if I had called the cafeteria and left the message. I had no idea what number I had called. I just called until someone answered. Anyway, they had tracked him down in the cafeteria where he was eating. Now, I'll never know whether or not it was the cafeteria, but leave it to me to do weird things.....
Again, as the last time he and I spent a while just talking about anything that came to mind.
Granddaddy picked up on the other line and talked with him, too for a while. After Granddaddy hung up he said to me, "You got a good man, kiddo!" I didn't hesitate to agree with him. I did get a good man. My kids have the best daddy. But I'm not sure he always thought he was such a good man. Forty eight years ago this same man was trying to protect me from that good man. I'm glad he's finally come across with his approval.
He and I have some history between us. This was the man who hired what he called a 'green little kid, fresh out of high school,' and it was his life's mission to take that little kid under his wing and protect her from any harm he felt was coming her way.
I was that man's secretary for over 10-11+ years, enduring his watchful eye every step of the way. He is right; we've had a great friendship for many, many years even though he scared the absolute bejeebers out of me those 10-11 years I worked for him.
I feel his pain in his losses. I also appreciate him. My protector...my daddy away from home. My friend. I really should make sure I don't put so much time in between phone calls. I shouldn't be that busy that I can't stay in touch with this friend.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Friday, July 2, 2010
Does this toilet seat make
On one of our potty stops while out yesterday this is conversation with Annabelle as it was my turn to sit on the potty:
Annabelle: You got a big hiney, Grandmomma!
Grandmomma: Thanks, Annabelle, I needed that.
I knew my tummy was big, but I didn't know my hiney was all that big. It must have been the toilet seat.
Annabelle: You got a big hiney, Grandmomma!
Grandmomma: Thanks, Annabelle, I needed that.
I knew my tummy was big, but I didn't know my hiney was all that big. It must have been the toilet seat.
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Tidbits
Around noontime we picked up Annabelle for an afternoon of just "us" time. Since Sophia has come into our family we haven't had as much time with just Annabelle. We started out eating at the Piccadilly.
On the way we cut through some back streets and suddenly Annabelle got excited. "That's where I went to the doctor!" she says. Then it hit me that we were indeed in the area of where one of her appointments for evaluation of speech therapy had taken place. We zigged and zagged around and since we obviously didn't go in the same way, things didn't seem quite the same after a certain point. But she was right, I'm sure, that it was the same place she had been earlier.
One conversation completely out of the blue with Annabelle, while we were eating lunch:
Annabelle: Molly cheers for Georgia. I don't cheer for Georgia. I cheer for Tennessee!
Grandmomma: Why does Molly cheer for Georgia?
Annabelle: Because she likes Georgia. I don't like Georgia. I like Tennessee. I want them to win. We (Daddy and Annabelle) watch football on t.v. We cheer for Tennessee!
Grandmomma: And why do you suppose Molly likes Georgia?
Annabelle: Because her Mommy and Daddy went to school there.
Grandmomma: And your Daddy went to...?
Annabelle: TENNESSEE!
Grandmomma: I don't like Georgia, either. I have to cheer for Tennessee. Well, sometimes I like Georgia...when they aren't playing Tennessee.
Annabelle: YEAH!
I have no idea what provoked that conversation. Georgia and Tennessee had not even entered the conversation. But so much for what thoughts run through her head.
I think she's quite good for a 3 1/2 year old when it comes to noticing direction and where she is. Really amazing to me. Of course she is quite the traveler so I guess that helps some..
And she has a good memory for other things as well. As soon as she had finished her meal she reminded me she wanted a balloon. The same lady almost always takes our tray and seats us. She always remembered to ask about the other two who were missing in the family, too.
But first, from the visit to Journey's End yesterday, she wanted to play a game of putting a small amount of food in her mouth while she had her eyes closed and she would guess what the food was. I was reprimended for not following Mommy rules for eating her food.
Annabelle: But you put too much food on my plate. Mommy doesn't put that much on it.
Usually Mommy puts a litte bit of food on her plate and requests that she at least try it and if she wants more she can have more. I'm accustomed to putting amounts of her favorite things on her plate in amounts I'm sure she will have no problem eating. That didn't work this time.
We did play our game for a few bites until she was all finished and ready for her dessert of bran muffin (the whole one she didn't want to share with me.) Then it was onto the balloon. And our kind waitress obliged by bringing her a pretty red one this time.
Since she had barely eaten the pile I had put on her plate we took the remaining food and beloved balloon home for safety and the food for her to eat later tonight. She asked that I tell Mommy not to eat the rest of it while we were gone so she could have it later. I doubt she ate it later, but that was her request.
Then it was on to Stone Mountain. She kept telling her Granddaddy he was going the wrong way. And he was because he had turned too early and we had to change our route. She knew this wasn't the way to Stone Mountain because Daddy didn't go that way. He takes her out there on Saturdays sometimes...enough that she knows her way....maybe. Every turn we made brought on the same statement. We weren't going the right way, Granddaddy. At one point she even reminded me we couldn't go that way because we had to stop by Publix to get some hotdog buns or some cereal or something to feed the ducks. And, of course, we didn't turn the right way to go into the park. She's such a little back-seat driver. When she drives she's going to have to be behind the wheel because only she and her Daddy know how to get there.
At one point I told her we were going to let her drive next time, to which she replied in a soft little voice, "But I'm not old enough to drive!"
After a few real life unintentional mis-turns and Granddaddy not following her directions we finally made it down to the lake for her to feed the ducks. Four baby ducks, or four young ducks I should say, and their Mommy attached themselves to us. We figured the biggest duck was "Mommy Duck" because she stayed right on them and she would quack her warnings out to the babies. I'm sure she was telling them, "Don't get too close to that little girl. You don't know if she's your friend or enemy. Stay back. Don't fight over the food. Let me have a chance for a bite of it." There were several other bigger ducks out wanting so much to be able to get their share.
Mommy Duck was determined they wouldn't bully her babies around. After she was more comfortable with us being around, she would turn herself around, duck her head low and she would fly out at the others, keeping them away from her babies and their feeding time.
Even the sassy Blue Jays were perched in the trees waiting for their chance to swoop down to eat their share. They got very few chances because those babies were on that food as soon as it hit the ground. We had to throw Mommy Duck her food above the heads of the babies.
A couple of times Annabelle apparently got a bit generous with the amount she threw and Mommy Duck grabbed up the big piece and moved down into the edge of the water where she promptly ducked her bill down into the water to make sure it was soft enough for her to eat without choking. Maybe she was teaching her babies a lesson or maybe she knew it was too much for her, but she did this several time. Quite interesting.
Granddaddy had just pulled our chairs out so we could enjoy watching the ducks and Annabelle when she decided she had to go potty. Since we didn't have the portable potty with us (one thing I had forgotten to ask for) we had to pack everything up and go back up the hill to the potty.
We had enjoyed the ducks already for a good bit of time, so instead of returning to the lake, she decided she wanted to walk down to the grist mill. Well, she thought she wanted to go to the grist mill. She really just wanted to walk along on the ledges and run ahead of me. She and I spent a good amount of time just running (that would be her, not me) along and just enjoying ourselves.I kept reminding her I no longer could move as fast as she moves. I was really afraid she would fall on the stone steps and get hurt, but she didn't seem to see the danger.
She found a bit of sand in one area and decided she needed to stop and play in it. She wanted to take her shoes off, but I discouraged that, so she promptly just pour the sand over her entire shoe, down into her socks and shoes. Uggg!
We stayed down there for a good while and then finally I convinced her we needed to move back up to where Granddaddy was waiting in the car. I never realized just how old I'm getting until I tried to keep up with her coming and going to and from that car. I was completely exhausted by
the time we got back to Granddaddy.
One other thought, when we pulled into the parking spot to go to the bathroom, beside us was a pretty little convertible, top down and all. She said, "I like dat car!" I'm sure she did and I'm sure that will be one of those things in life that will totally drive her Mommy to her wits end once she gets her very own convertible. She's already showing signs of being a wild woman in her future years.
The train came by while we were turning to go down to feed the ducks, earlier. She decided she was through with the ducks for now and she wanted to go down near the train tracks. She also stated she wanted to ride the train, but we talked her into waiting another time for that. She said she hasn't ridden on it before and I thought maybe Mommy and Daddy wanted to be there for that. She agreed.
She kept telling us we couldn't park in the parking lot near the train. We had to walk. Well, I can't tell you how excited I was about that. Apparently she was right. We never found a close enough parking spot for poor-worn-out Grandmomma to make the trip down to the train tracks. I was informed we could call Daddy. He knows where it is. Apparently everything about Stone Mountain is within Daddy's realm of knowledge. She said Mommy wouldn't know. Daddy would.
Before we left the park we made one final round to feed the ducks. Armed with one hot dog bun we started out for the ducks, but not before she wanted to share with me the special place she and Daddy walked.
Annabelle: I'll show you where we walk. (Annabelle and Daddy).
Grandmomma: I'm really tired, Annabelle, maybe next time.
At this point we were out of the car and she was headed toward the fenced-in area leading to the area where they walked. I followed. And, of course, she had to hug a tree. A small tree. For a picture to remember earlier years when she had hugged a big tree for a picture. This was her idea. On the way out I pointed out the tree I thought she had hugged when she was younger. She looked at it and decided I wasn't right. It was too big. I guess we'll have to pull out the old pictures to jolt her memory.
On the way back to the car at the end of the day she said, "Grandmomma, do you think you and Grandaddy can come back and get me tomorrow? Maybe for three hours." (At least it wasn't her usual favorite numbers of 28-now-27!) Of course that made me feel good because she had enjoyed her time with us.
Finally we were on the way home with a tired little girl in the back seat. She kept rubbing her eyes and she had started coughing. That started up while we were walking down near the grist mill. She said, "I think I'm getting sick again."
She really wanted to go to sleep on the way home, but I didn't want to mess up her bedtime this late in the game so we engaged her in a conversation about what the Mommy Duck probably said to her babies when she was quacking at them.
Annabelle: What do you think she said to them, Grandmomma?
Grandmomma: Don't get too close to her. She might want to grab you and eat you!
Annabelle: What else did she say, Grandmomma?
Grandmomma: Don't be greedy!
On and on this conversation went. After exhausting all my thoughts on what Mommy Duck would/could have said/thought, I asked Granddaddy what he thought Mommy Duck had said. He thought for a moment and then said,
Granddaddy: She probably said, You better eat all your dinner. I'm not cooking again today.
Now, where did that come from? Out of the mouths of three and a half year olds and Granddaddys...
When we had talked earlier about whether she was ready to go home or not she had said, no, she wasn't ready, but then finally she said she was ready. She wanted to go home to see Mommy and Sophia.
Every good thing has to end eventually. And it was a good day for all. That's all that counts.
On the way we cut through some back streets and suddenly Annabelle got excited. "That's where I went to the doctor!" she says. Then it hit me that we were indeed in the area of where one of her appointments for evaluation of speech therapy had taken place. We zigged and zagged around and since we obviously didn't go in the same way, things didn't seem quite the same after a certain point. But she was right, I'm sure, that it was the same place she had been earlier.
One conversation completely out of the blue with Annabelle, while we were eating lunch:
Annabelle: Molly cheers for Georgia. I don't cheer for Georgia. I cheer for Tennessee!
Grandmomma: Why does Molly cheer for Georgia?
Annabelle: Because she likes Georgia. I don't like Georgia. I like Tennessee. I want them to win. We (Daddy and Annabelle) watch football on t.v. We cheer for Tennessee!
Grandmomma: And why do you suppose Molly likes Georgia?
Annabelle: Because her Mommy and Daddy went to school there.
Grandmomma: And your Daddy went to...?
Annabelle: TENNESSEE!
Grandmomma: I don't like Georgia, either. I have to cheer for Tennessee. Well, sometimes I like Georgia...when they aren't playing Tennessee.
Annabelle: YEAH!
I have no idea what provoked that conversation. Georgia and Tennessee had not even entered the conversation. But so much for what thoughts run through her head.
I think she's quite good for a 3 1/2 year old when it comes to noticing direction and where she is. Really amazing to me. Of course she is quite the traveler so I guess that helps some..
And she has a good memory for other things as well. As soon as she had finished her meal she reminded me she wanted a balloon. The same lady almost always takes our tray and seats us. She always remembered to ask about the other two who were missing in the family, too.
But first, from the visit to Journey's End yesterday, she wanted to play a game of putting a small amount of food in her mouth while she had her eyes closed and she would guess what the food was. I was reprimended for not following Mommy rules for eating her food.
Annabelle: But you put too much food on my plate. Mommy doesn't put that much on it.
Usually Mommy puts a litte bit of food on her plate and requests that she at least try it and if she wants more she can have more. I'm accustomed to putting amounts of her favorite things on her plate in amounts I'm sure she will have no problem eating. That didn't work this time.
We did play our game for a few bites until she was all finished and ready for her dessert of bran muffin (the whole one she didn't want to share with me.) Then it was onto the balloon. And our kind waitress obliged by bringing her a pretty red one this time.
Since she had barely eaten the pile I had put on her plate we took the remaining food and beloved balloon home for safety and the food for her to eat later tonight. She asked that I tell Mommy not to eat the rest of it while we were gone so she could have it later. I doubt she ate it later, but that was her request.
Then it was on to Stone Mountain. She kept telling her Granddaddy he was going the wrong way. And he was because he had turned too early and we had to change our route. She knew this wasn't the way to Stone Mountain because Daddy didn't go that way. He takes her out there on Saturdays sometimes...enough that she knows her way....maybe. Every turn we made brought on the same statement. We weren't going the right way, Granddaddy. At one point she even reminded me we couldn't go that way because we had to stop by Publix to get some hotdog buns or some cereal or something to feed the ducks. And, of course, we didn't turn the right way to go into the park. She's such a little back-seat driver. When she drives she's going to have to be behind the wheel because only she and her Daddy know how to get there.
At one point I told her we were going to let her drive next time, to which she replied in a soft little voice, "But I'm not old enough to drive!"
After a few real life unintentional mis-turns and Granddaddy not following her directions we finally made it down to the lake for her to feed the ducks. Four baby ducks, or four young ducks I should say, and their Mommy attached themselves to us. We figured the biggest duck was "Mommy Duck" because she stayed right on them and she would quack her warnings out to the babies. I'm sure she was telling them, "Don't get too close to that little girl. You don't know if she's your friend or enemy. Stay back. Don't fight over the food. Let me have a chance for a bite of it." There were several other bigger ducks out wanting so much to be able to get their share.
Mommy Duck was determined they wouldn't bully her babies around. After she was more comfortable with us being around, she would turn herself around, duck her head low and she would fly out at the others, keeping them away from her babies and their feeding time.
Even the sassy Blue Jays were perched in the trees waiting for their chance to swoop down to eat their share. They got very few chances because those babies were on that food as soon as it hit the ground. We had to throw Mommy Duck her food above the heads of the babies.
A couple of times Annabelle apparently got a bit generous with the amount she threw and Mommy Duck grabbed up the big piece and moved down into the edge of the water where she promptly ducked her bill down into the water to make sure it was soft enough for her to eat without choking. Maybe she was teaching her babies a lesson or maybe she knew it was too much for her, but she did this several time. Quite interesting.
Granddaddy had just pulled our chairs out so we could enjoy watching the ducks and Annabelle when she decided she had to go potty. Since we didn't have the portable potty with us (one thing I had forgotten to ask for) we had to pack everything up and go back up the hill to the potty.
We had enjoyed the ducks already for a good bit of time, so instead of returning to the lake, she decided she wanted to walk down to the grist mill. Well, she thought she wanted to go to the grist mill. She really just wanted to walk along on the ledges and run ahead of me. She and I spent a good amount of time just running (that would be her, not me) along and just enjoying ourselves.I kept reminding her I no longer could move as fast as she moves. I was really afraid she would fall on the stone steps and get hurt, but she didn't seem to see the danger.
She found a bit of sand in one area and decided she needed to stop and play in it. She wanted to take her shoes off, but I discouraged that, so she promptly just pour the sand over her entire shoe, down into her socks and shoes. Uggg!
We stayed down there for a good while and then finally I convinced her we needed to move back up to where Granddaddy was waiting in the car. I never realized just how old I'm getting until I tried to keep up with her coming and going to and from that car. I was completely exhausted by
the time we got back to Granddaddy.
One other thought, when we pulled into the parking spot to go to the bathroom, beside us was a pretty little convertible, top down and all. She said, "I like dat car!" I'm sure she did and I'm sure that will be one of those things in life that will totally drive her Mommy to her wits end once she gets her very own convertible. She's already showing signs of being a wild woman in her future years.
The train came by while we were turning to go down to feed the ducks, earlier. She decided she was through with the ducks for now and she wanted to go down near the train tracks. She also stated she wanted to ride the train, but we talked her into waiting another time for that. She said she hasn't ridden on it before and I thought maybe Mommy and Daddy wanted to be there for that. She agreed.
She kept telling us we couldn't park in the parking lot near the train. We had to walk. Well, I can't tell you how excited I was about that. Apparently she was right. We never found a close enough parking spot for poor-worn-out Grandmomma to make the trip down to the train tracks. I was informed we could call Daddy. He knows where it is. Apparently everything about Stone Mountain is within Daddy's realm of knowledge. She said Mommy wouldn't know. Daddy would.
Before we left the park we made one final round to feed the ducks. Armed with one hot dog bun we started out for the ducks, but not before she wanted to share with me the special place she and Daddy walked.
Annabelle: I'll show you where we walk. (Annabelle and Daddy).
Grandmomma: I'm really tired, Annabelle, maybe next time.
At this point we were out of the car and she was headed toward the fenced-in area leading to the area where they walked. I followed. And, of course, she had to hug a tree. A small tree. For a picture to remember earlier years when she had hugged a big tree for a picture. This was her idea. On the way out I pointed out the tree I thought she had hugged when she was younger. She looked at it and decided I wasn't right. It was too big. I guess we'll have to pull out the old pictures to jolt her memory.
On the way back to the car at the end of the day she said, "Grandmomma, do you think you and Grandaddy can come back and get me tomorrow? Maybe for three hours." (At least it wasn't her usual favorite numbers of 28-now-27!) Of course that made me feel good because she had enjoyed her time with us.
Finally we were on the way home with a tired little girl in the back seat. She kept rubbing her eyes and she had started coughing. That started up while we were walking down near the grist mill. She said, "I think I'm getting sick again."
She really wanted to go to sleep on the way home, but I didn't want to mess up her bedtime this late in the game so we engaged her in a conversation about what the Mommy Duck probably said to her babies when she was quacking at them.
Annabelle: What do you think she said to them, Grandmomma?
Grandmomma: Don't get too close to her. She might want to grab you and eat you!
Annabelle: What else did she say, Grandmomma?
Grandmomma: Don't be greedy!
On and on this conversation went. After exhausting all my thoughts on what Mommy Duck would/could have said/thought, I asked Granddaddy what he thought Mommy Duck had said. He thought for a moment and then said,
Granddaddy: She probably said, You better eat all your dinner. I'm not cooking again today.
Now, where did that come from? Out of the mouths of three and a half year olds and Granddaddys...
When we had talked earlier about whether she was ready to go home or not she had said, no, she wasn't ready, but then finally she said she was ready. She wanted to go home to see Mommy and Sophia.
Every good thing has to end eventually. And it was a good day for all. That's all that counts.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Ambitious
I've wanted to change the heading to my blog for a while and couldn't get up the courage to do so, until now. I decided if I could make my mini-scrapbooking cards, I should be able to do something with it. So, since I was awake at 2:00 a.m. and couldn't go back to sleep I decided to attempt to tackle the job to see if indeed I could do it.
I was a bit nervous because I was afraid I would do something to erase the entire blog and I would be really hurting because I would miss my previous thoughts.
I get a kick seeing a cute 3 year old covering her little face with cake batter while licking the mixer spatula clean. And I managed to steal the most recent one I've seen of the new little two plus month old Little Princess #2 from her Mommy's blog. I found one of The Analyzer reading his book out in the park while they were on their six-week vacation to New York last summer to meet up with friends they made when they lived in Jersey a few years earlier. He's grown quite a bit, but I still love the picture of him. Little Free Spirit assumed the role of Harry Potter in the picture of him. This was made around Halloween this past year. Isn't he adorable in his glasses. He doesn't really wear them in real life, but he's still a cutie. And Beautiful Blue Eyes is simply cute as a bug in a rug while he tries to dig a hole to China when they were at the beach early part of summer last year. I could have chosen a few of this little mess because he is a clown, but I liked the beach pose best.
I have to revert to old pictures sometimes because I can never get their cute little faces if I really want to take one of them.
I am still being a bit conservative in what I add such as I haven't figured out how to add the papers along the side and I haven't figured out how to make my writings move on the paper below, but who knows, someday I may even tackle something like that.
Maybe, but I doubt it, I might just change the pictures before the kids reach high school or graduate from college. For now I've quite pleased with myself...Simple and all.
But it certainly took me long enough to get this much perfected to the point I was willing to post the header. I know it's not really perfect, but for me it is just fine. Many hours early this morning and all day today produced these results. Oh well.
I did leave out one of the girls...Sophie the doggy that belongs to the boys. Room was very scarce, so somebody had to go and it was Sophie the pup, not Sophia the baby girl.
I was a bit nervous because I was afraid I would do something to erase the entire blog and I would be really hurting because I would miss my previous thoughts.
I get a kick seeing a cute 3 year old covering her little face with cake batter while licking the mixer spatula clean. And I managed to steal the most recent one I've seen of the new little two plus month old Little Princess #2 from her Mommy's blog. I found one of The Analyzer reading his book out in the park while they were on their six-week vacation to New York last summer to meet up with friends they made when they lived in Jersey a few years earlier. He's grown quite a bit, but I still love the picture of him. Little Free Spirit assumed the role of Harry Potter in the picture of him. This was made around Halloween this past year. Isn't he adorable in his glasses. He doesn't really wear them in real life, but he's still a cutie. And Beautiful Blue Eyes is simply cute as a bug in a rug while he tries to dig a hole to China when they were at the beach early part of summer last year. I could have chosen a few of this little mess because he is a clown, but I liked the beach pose best.
I have to revert to old pictures sometimes because I can never get their cute little faces if I really want to take one of them.
I am still being a bit conservative in what I add such as I haven't figured out how to add the papers along the side and I haven't figured out how to make my writings move on the paper below, but who knows, someday I may even tackle something like that.
Maybe, but I doubt it, I might just change the pictures before the kids reach high school or graduate from college. For now I've quite pleased with myself...Simple and all.
But it certainly took me long enough to get this much perfected to the point I was willing to post the header. I know it's not really perfect, but for me it is just fine. Many hours early this morning and all day today produced these results. Oh well.
I did leave out one of the girls...Sophie the doggy that belongs to the boys. Room was very scarce, so somebody had to go and it was Sophie the pup, not Sophia the baby girl.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Gotta write about it
About three weeks or so we were visiting the girls at their house. Mommy had decided she needed to break out a bathing suit. Since she had only given birth a few short weeks before, she was skeptical about how she would look in her bathing suit. Apparently she went up into the attic to find the previous one she had stored up there. At least I thought that was what it was, maybe not. That's not important. She was just in the attic for something.
Annabelle comes running into the living room and says, "Grandmomma, I think you need to write about that!"
What was I to write about? Mommy had hit her head on a rafter or something and Annabelle thought it was very funny. I'm not sure what salty language Mommy used, or if she did say anything at all, but Annabelle thought it needed to be documented.
One time several months ago, and before Sophia, I was trying to give her a choice of pictures we would work up and I would make into cute 5 X 7 mini-scrapbooking pages to cover special things or pictures we had of her. As I was writing down the particular number of photos (which, I might add, was pretty much all the pictures we viewed!). somehow I got side-tracked and didn't mark down one she thought was worthy of scrapping. I had told her earlier where she could look to see the number of the picture on the computer. I hadn't written down the one she "liked" and after telling her I didn't know if I had written it down or not, when I came back to my notes I found little scribbling just below the last number I had written down. She was determined I would not miss one of her favorite pictures. Apparently she didn't find a number on my list that matched the computer. So funny.
Does any of this tell you which way our conversation goes when we're around her? Write it down, write it down, write it down.
Annabelle comes running into the living room and says, "Grandmomma, I think you need to write about that!"
What was I to write about? Mommy had hit her head on a rafter or something and Annabelle thought it was very funny. I'm not sure what salty language Mommy used, or if she did say anything at all, but Annabelle thought it needed to be documented.
One time several months ago, and before Sophia, I was trying to give her a choice of pictures we would work up and I would make into cute 5 X 7 mini-scrapbooking pages to cover special things or pictures we had of her. As I was writing down the particular number of photos (which, I might add, was pretty much all the pictures we viewed!). somehow I got side-tracked and didn't mark down one she thought was worthy of scrapping. I had told her earlier where she could look to see the number of the picture on the computer. I hadn't written down the one she "liked" and after telling her I didn't know if I had written it down or not, when I came back to my notes I found little scribbling just below the last number I had written down. She was determined I would not miss one of her favorite pictures. Apparently she didn't find a number on my list that matched the computer. So funny.
Does any of this tell you which way our conversation goes when we're around her? Write it down, write it down, write it down.
Got it right
Tonight the girls, all three of them, had dinner with us. This was the conversation about what I served:
Annabelle: Grandmomma, you fixed the right chicken tonight!
Grandmomma: I did?
Annabelle: Yes it is my favorite!
That was nice to know I had pleased my sweet granddaughter.
And what kind of chicken did I fix, you ask?
It was Barber Foods, Creme Brie and Apple, filled with Brie, cheddar, & Mozzarella cheeses, sliced apples and cranberries.
It just happens to be the favorite of her Grandmomma, Granddaddy and now her Mommy as well as Annabelle. You just can't beat it. But don't go stealing it from my stores. I could only get it from Sam's for the longest time, and only there around Christmas time. And, not all Sam's stores carry it. It was a seasonal item from them. Why? I have no idea. It is sooo good.
I bought up a bunch of it at full pice at Sam's when it came out Christmas this past year and then found it at a much reduced price just as the season was closing out. I went back to get more (yeah, I'm greedy, but I love what I love) and someone had wiped out the whole case! Someone was much greedier than I because I would have left a little bit. But Publix has started stocking them in a two-piece package. I bought several when they had them on special recently with a coupon from Barber. The woman who helped me find them told me if they kept selling them they would keep stocking them, so it makes sense to me to keep buying them. Some Publix stores were more difficult to find them in because they apparently had already sold out or were close to it by the time I got there.
One of these days I am planning to work up my own recipe, casserole style, using what Annabelle calls "Nonnie's Chicken". It just takes time and for me to be in the mood, plus cooler weather, for me to spend my time one it, but I'm telling you folks, I will make myself independent of that company one day!
Until then, we'll keep trying to buy them at the best price possible.
I have to agree with Annabelle, they are the best!
Annabelle: Grandmomma, you fixed the right chicken tonight!
Grandmomma: I did?
Annabelle: Yes it is my favorite!
That was nice to know I had pleased my sweet granddaughter.
And what kind of chicken did I fix, you ask?
It was Barber Foods, Creme Brie and Apple, filled with Brie, cheddar, & Mozzarella cheeses, sliced apples and cranberries.
It just happens to be the favorite of her Grandmomma, Granddaddy and now her Mommy as well as Annabelle. You just can't beat it. But don't go stealing it from my stores. I could only get it from Sam's for the longest time, and only there around Christmas time. And, not all Sam's stores carry it. It was a seasonal item from them. Why? I have no idea. It is sooo good.
I bought up a bunch of it at full pice at Sam's when it came out Christmas this past year and then found it at a much reduced price just as the season was closing out. I went back to get more (yeah, I'm greedy, but I love what I love) and someone had wiped out the whole case! Someone was much greedier than I because I would have left a little bit. But Publix has started stocking them in a two-piece package. I bought several when they had them on special recently with a coupon from Barber. The woman who helped me find them told me if they kept selling them they would keep stocking them, so it makes sense to me to keep buying them. Some Publix stores were more difficult to find them in because they apparently had already sold out or were close to it by the time I got there.
One of these days I am planning to work up my own recipe, casserole style, using what Annabelle calls "Nonnie's Chicken". It just takes time and for me to be in the mood, plus cooler weather, for me to spend my time one it, but I'm telling you folks, I will make myself independent of that company one day!
Until then, we'll keep trying to buy them at the best price possible.
I have to agree with Annabelle, they are the best!
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Like Mother, like Daughter
Yesterday we joined my sister and her husband for lunch at Journey's End for a great buffet and to celebrate his 80th birthday. We were joined by Mommy and the two little ones in the family.
As Annabelle returned to the table with her Mommy, she slipped and fell into a chair hurting her little head but mostly getting a bad burn on her knee as result.
While trying to comfort her (after Mommy, of course) we were discussing how it had happened.
I pointed out to her that the round rug under the table and protruding a little outward was how she tripped. There was a rectanglar rug that she had stepped off of and the round one was just a bit over the top of it.
She wanted to immediately correct the problem, but I convinced her it would be fine that way.
She listened to me and left the rug the way it was...until we were ready to leave. She didn't forget what the problem was, however.
I looked down and there on her little wounded knee she was trying to correct the situation...and she didn't stop until she did. She promptly re-arranged the rug to correct the situation. Only I saw her because Mommy would have had a fit had she seen her on the dirty floor.
Now I'm wondering how many elderly people are going to trip over that rug because she re-arranged it for the restaurant. I guess they would fall either coming or going, so I didn't try to rearrange it. At least they won't have a plate full of food when they fall.
I see so much of her Mommy in her sometimes, it's frightening, but I have to snicker because it's so much funnier now than it was when I was trying to raise such a little perfectionist. Now I don't mean I was trying to raise her to be a perfectionist, I was just having to raise the little perfectionist she was determined to be.
I have no doubt her Mommy would have done the same thing at that age.
As Annabelle returned to the table with her Mommy, she slipped and fell into a chair hurting her little head but mostly getting a bad burn on her knee as result.
While trying to comfort her (after Mommy, of course) we were discussing how it had happened.
I pointed out to her that the round rug under the table and protruding a little outward was how she tripped. There was a rectanglar rug that she had stepped off of and the round one was just a bit over the top of it.
She wanted to immediately correct the problem, but I convinced her it would be fine that way.
She listened to me and left the rug the way it was...until we were ready to leave. She didn't forget what the problem was, however.
I looked down and there on her little wounded knee she was trying to correct the situation...and she didn't stop until she did. She promptly re-arranged the rug to correct the situation. Only I saw her because Mommy would have had a fit had she seen her on the dirty floor.
Now I'm wondering how many elderly people are going to trip over that rug because she re-arranged it for the restaurant. I guess they would fall either coming or going, so I didn't try to rearrange it. At least they won't have a plate full of food when they fall.
I see so much of her Mommy in her sometimes, it's frightening, but I have to snicker because it's so much funnier now than it was when I was trying to raise such a little perfectionist. Now I don't mean I was trying to raise her to be a perfectionist, I was just having to raise the little perfectionist she was determined to be.
I have no doubt her Mommy would have done the same thing at that age.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
The teacher
Sunday, Granddaddy and I took care of Annabelle while her Mommy and Daddy had a little free time to go to a final class they had preparing for Beebow. After they returned we were sitting around the table and Annabelle apparently didn't appreciate us spending our time talking to each other so she set about her own little way of making sure she was in the conversation.
She and I had spent some time earlier playing with some freebie booklet she had received from Highlights. We were trying to find the mitten, hockey stick,paint brush etc. and a couple of other games in the pamphlet. She had just retrieved it from our house, but while it was there Granddaddy had apparently tried to find some of those items because he said to me, "Those are hard to find!" Anyway, the following is basically what happened and the expressions she made as I remember them.
Annabelle: Does anybody want to play this game? Raise your hand if you want to play.
Finally after feeling sorry for her because nobody would volunteer, one of us raised our hand. She would come over and we would find the missing item, then we would go back to talking, until once again she got our attention and on and on it went. She is not one to be ignored.
Annabelle: I'm the teacher. Does everybody know the rules of the game? Does anybody not know the rules?
If anybody wants to play just raise your hand.
To this, I raised my hand and waved it. She walked over to the table beside me and in her most authoriative little three-year old voice she informed me:
Annabelle: Grandmomma, just raise your hand. You don't have to wave your hand. Just raise your hand. I can see it.
After being appropriately disciplined by a three-year old, she and I played for still another look and match. Then on to the others. Someone asked her if she wanted to play the game, also . This is her reply:
Annabelle: No, I'm the teach-er (with a little emphasis on 'the teacher').
There were probably more things she said that just about left us rolling on the floor, but this were the gist of what I remember. Mommy, feel free to add your comments on what she said.
I really don't know where this sassiness came from at such an early age, but she's certainly practicing her skills for her future profession of becoming a teacher. I'm glad I don't have to go through anymore school days. I don't think I would survive being in that teacher's class.
But she's just so doggone cute, I just might enroll in her class. If I survive the years until she becomes on.
She and I had spent some time earlier playing with some freebie booklet she had received from Highlights. We were trying to find the mitten, hockey stick,paint brush etc. and a couple of other games in the pamphlet. She had just retrieved it from our house, but while it was there Granddaddy had apparently tried to find some of those items because he said to me, "Those are hard to find!" Anyway, the following is basically what happened and the expressions she made as I remember them.
Annabelle: Does anybody want to play this game? Raise your hand if you want to play.
Finally after feeling sorry for her because nobody would volunteer, one of us raised our hand. She would come over and we would find the missing item, then we would go back to talking, until once again she got our attention and on and on it went. She is not one to be ignored.
Annabelle: I'm the teacher. Does everybody know the rules of the game? Does anybody not know the rules?
If anybody wants to play just raise your hand.
To this, I raised my hand and waved it. She walked over to the table beside me and in her most authoriative little three-year old voice she informed me:
Annabelle: Grandmomma, just raise your hand. You don't have to wave your hand. Just raise your hand. I can see it.
After being appropriately disciplined by a three-year old, she and I played for still another look and match. Then on to the others. Someone asked her if she wanted to play the game, also . This is her reply:
Annabelle: No, I'm the teach-er (with a little emphasis on 'the teacher').
There were probably more things she said that just about left us rolling on the floor, but this were the gist of what I remember. Mommy, feel free to add your comments on what she said.
I really don't know where this sassiness came from at such an early age, but she's certainly practicing her skills for her future profession of becoming a teacher. I'm glad I don't have to go through anymore school days. I don't think I would survive being in that teacher's class.
But she's just so doggone cute, I just might enroll in her class. If I survive the years until she becomes on.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
1960's Little Hippie Chick - 2010 Style
Tuesday, March 8, 2010
We were headed out for our trip to the zoo this morning and while Mommy and I were busy packing our picnic lunch, Little Princess entered the room with a couple of boxes wrapped around her tiny body. Apparently she was a choo-choo train or whatever. What struck me as the cutiest was seeing her dressed in her hippie outfit.
Her hair was adored with a crown of flowers, her neck was draped with her beads and she was just dressed in style like a 1960's flower child/Little Hippie Chick! So adorable and I was left with my hands busy with turkey sandwiches and no camera.
I asked her to wait for me to get my camera for pictures, but just being Annabelle, she decided I would have to wait to get my pictures.
As we got into the car I handed her the tiara to put on her head. She looked at me and said, "Not.until.we.get.back.home!" I decided it wasn't worth the fight so I returned the tiara to the house.
Later that night we stopped back by the house and I asked Mommy to pick up the tiara. Annabelle had promised me and I was holding her to her promise.
It still wouldn't happen until after we ate, though. Then she allowed Mommy to put on the tiara. I have to say, she acts as though her Mommy is killing her when she works with her hair.
Then she gets into position for picture making. She twists and twirls and wiggles and squirms, beads flying, tie twisting. How my camera was able to catch the movement is unbelievable because my small camera doesn't catch movements that fast. I think this was probably just Annabelle's way of living up to her word but hoping I wouldn't get good pictures.
I fooled her. I was able to get a few good ones afterall!
And I love the picture on the right. She looks like she is putting on her jacket to make the great escape. Time is up for Grandmomma's photoshoot.
When we finished with our meal there was a dessert of Angel Food cake left over from a trip to Sam's for picnic items, earlier in the day. She took her piece of cake and showed her mommy, "Look Mommy, it's a camel!" Indeed it did look like a camel.
"I can't believe you ate my camel, Mommy!"
And here she is just being cute!
We were headed out for our trip to the zoo this morning and while Mommy and I were busy packing our picnic lunch, Little Princess entered the room with a couple of boxes wrapped around her tiny body. Apparently she was a choo-choo train or whatever. What struck me as the cutiest was seeing her dressed in her hippie outfit.
Her hair was adored with a crown of flowers, her neck was draped with her beads and she was just dressed in style like a 1960's flower child/Little Hippie Chick! So adorable and I was left with my hands busy with turkey sandwiches and no camera.
I asked her to wait for me to get my camera for pictures, but just being Annabelle, she decided I would have to wait to get my pictures.
As we got into the car I handed her the tiara to put on her head. She looked at me and said, "Not.until.we.get.back.home!" I decided it wasn't worth the fight so I returned the tiara to the house.
Later that night we stopped back by the house and I asked Mommy to pick up the tiara. Annabelle had promised me and I was holding her to her promise.
It still wouldn't happen until after we ate, though. Then she allowed Mommy to put on the tiara. I have to say, she acts as though her Mommy is killing her when she works with her hair.
Then she gets into position for picture making. She twists and twirls and wiggles and squirms, beads flying, tie twisting. How my camera was able to catch the movement is unbelievable because my small camera doesn't catch movements that fast. I think this was probably just Annabelle's way of living up to her word but hoping I wouldn't get good pictures.
I fooled her. I was able to get a few good ones afterall!
And I love the picture on the right. She looks like she is putting on her jacket to make the great escape. Time is up for Grandmomma's photoshoot.
When we finished with our meal there was a dessert of Angel Food cake left over from a trip to Sam's for picnic items, earlier in the day. She took her piece of cake and showed her mommy, "Look Mommy, it's a camel!" Indeed it did look like a camel.
"I can't believe you ate my camel, Mommy!"
And here she is just being cute!
The taste of a three-year old
Monday,March 8, 2010
Today was one of the nicest days we have had in a few days so Annabelle's Mommy invited us to go to the zoo with them.
In the middle of busy traffic, headed through downtown these are some of Little Princesses' comments:
"I want a car just like dat one! Right dare. Da one without a top. Will you get me one Mommy?"
Indeed there was a young girl/woman driving through the crowd of cars with the top down on her convertible. (I told you it was a nice day!")
Annabelle's Mommy told her she (Annabelle) would have to work and save her money so she could buy her own convertible someday.
Little Princess has her dreams. Guess that's the reason she always wants to get out of the buggy when she's shopping with Mommy. As she says, "I need to get out so I can look for pennies!" Yes, we must start with pennies. It's truly a good start, especially when you're only three and are limited in good paying jobs.
Keep saving Sweetie. Maybe, just maybe, your dreams for a convertible will come true. Although I'm not so sure I really want to see you behind the wheel of a convertible.
Today was one of the nicest days we have had in a few days so Annabelle's Mommy invited us to go to the zoo with them.
In the middle of busy traffic, headed through downtown these are some of Little Princesses' comments:
"I want a car just like dat one! Right dare. Da one without a top. Will you get me one Mommy?"
Indeed there was a young girl/woman driving through the crowd of cars with the top down on her convertible. (I told you it was a nice day!")
Annabelle's Mommy told her she (Annabelle) would have to work and save her money so she could buy her own convertible someday.
Little Princess has her dreams. Guess that's the reason she always wants to get out of the buggy when she's shopping with Mommy. As she says, "I need to get out so I can look for pennies!" Yes, we must start with pennies. It's truly a good start, especially when you're only three and are limited in good paying jobs.
Keep saving Sweetie. Maybe, just maybe, your dreams for a convertible will come true. Although I'm not so sure I really want to see you behind the wheel of a convertible.
Friday, March 5, 2010
From 15 months to 8 years in no time flat...
Saturday, February 27, 2010
This second grandson of mine has changed in so many ways I can't even begin to list them. But for his birthday, which was a few days earlier, he decided he wanted to cook a spaghetti meal and he and his Mom sent out e-invites through the internet. Their first try and apparently it was a success. First time I had received one, but it was a fun invite.
The invite indicated he would be cooking and serving a meal for us in honor of his birthday. What a unique idea! As I said, he's only an eight year old. He would be cooking spaghetti, a tossed salad and a birthday cake!
His Mom said the night before she had sat down with him and made up a grocery list of all the items he would need and they made their trip to the grocery store, shopping for the necessary items. He even thought to include a bouquet of flowers to add to the main dining table. Mom said she had not thought about the flowers, but he did.
On Saturday he began his meal. He made a beautiful tossed salad loaded with pretty, healthy vegetables. He cooked regular spaghetti noodles and also some whole wheat pasta. And with limited help from Mom (she added the heart on his frosted cake) he prepared a beautiful yellow cake with chocolate frosting as the topper for his dinner.
As he greeted us at the door his words were, "I'm so tired!" I'm sure he was indeed tired. He had spent his day preparing a spaghetti dinner for us.
I was able to snap a few pictures of him enjoying his plate of spaghetti, lighting the candles on the cake and the final picture of his completed birthday cake. There just isn't room enough on the space I had to include a couple or more cute pictures I had. These were the cutest telling the story.
The 15 month old pictures came to mind when we received the invitation, so after the dinner I had Granddaddy pull the 2003 pictures from archives and I made a couple of cards from the pictures. I loved the picture of spaghetti draped over his sweet little foot and had to use that picture somewhere on one of the cards, but I loved the cute pictures of his sweet face and had to use those on the card background as well.
On the bottom pictures, third one over there is a strand of spaghetti draped on that sweet little left ear of his. His left ear...look closer.
Who was supposed to be watching this kid that night? Just let him play in his food without stopping him at all. But he was quite cute, I have to say.
I reminded his Daddy of his cooking experience with Boy Scouts when he was about eight years old. He had to prepare a meal for a badge. He did remember and said he could also get credit for a badge in Boy Scouts. He certainly deserves his badge. He did a great job.
This second grandson of mine has changed in so many ways I can't even begin to list them. But for his birthday, which was a few days earlier, he decided he wanted to cook a spaghetti meal and he and his Mom sent out e-invites through the internet. Their first try and apparently it was a success. First time I had received one, but it was a fun invite.
The invite indicated he would be cooking and serving a meal for us in honor of his birthday. What a unique idea! As I said, he's only an eight year old. He would be cooking spaghetti, a tossed salad and a birthday cake!
His Mom said the night before she had sat down with him and made up a grocery list of all the items he would need and they made their trip to the grocery store, shopping for the necessary items. He even thought to include a bouquet of flowers to add to the main dining table. Mom said she had not thought about the flowers, but he did.
On Saturday he began his meal. He made a beautiful tossed salad loaded with pretty, healthy vegetables. He cooked regular spaghetti noodles and also some whole wheat pasta. And with limited help from Mom (she added the heart on his frosted cake) he prepared a beautiful yellow cake with chocolate frosting as the topper for his dinner.
As he greeted us at the door his words were, "I'm so tired!" I'm sure he was indeed tired. He had spent his day preparing a spaghetti dinner for us.
I was able to snap a few pictures of him enjoying his plate of spaghetti, lighting the candles on the cake and the final picture of his completed birthday cake. There just isn't room enough on the space I had to include a couple or more cute pictures I had. These were the cutest telling the story.
The 15 month old pictures came to mind when we received the invitation, so after the dinner I had Granddaddy pull the 2003 pictures from archives and I made a couple of cards from the pictures. I loved the picture of spaghetti draped over his sweet little foot and had to use that picture somewhere on one of the cards, but I loved the cute pictures of his sweet face and had to use those on the card background as well.
On the bottom pictures, third one over there is a strand of spaghetti draped on that sweet little left ear of his. His left ear...look closer.
Who was supposed to be watching this kid that night? Just let him play in his food without stopping him at all. But he was quite cute, I have to say.
I reminded his Daddy of his cooking experience with Boy Scouts when he was about eight years old. He had to prepare a meal for a badge. He did remember and said he could also get credit for a badge in Boy Scouts. He certainly deserves his badge. He did a great job.
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