To prove their love and devotion, my kids will often let me sleep with stuffed animals carefully chosen from among their vast stores.
It’s a little like paying tribute but without the volcano. One daughter will even hold out the proffered gift, head bowed, and back away, still bent at the waist, arms out. She’s a silly one. I don’t know where she gets it.
Lately the girls have been on a rabbit kick, so the space between Husband’s and my pillows has become filled with Thumper, Hopper, Flopper, and friends.
Five stuffed rabbits, one bear, and one Alf in an apron and chef’s hat.
The girls were looking at their baby albums. My middle daughter, the most dramatic of the bunch by far, announced in a grandiose voice, “It’s time for the tale of the babies! Part One: Baby Gemma grows up!” Read the rest of this entry →