The other night, Chris made stuffed bell peppers for dinner. There were two green ones, a red, a yellow and an orange. He gave Gabe first choice (yes, I know, my kids are really weird and will eat stuffed peppers!) and he chose orange. Of course, Timothy then wanted orange, too, but we didn't have another orange one. I gave him a yellow one and told him, "This one has your name on it!"
Skip forward 45 minutes, and Timothy is STILL at the table. This is unusual. He normally inhales his food in under 10 minutes. So I went back to check on him and he was dejectedly clearing his empty plate. "What's wrong?" I asked. "I ate all my dinner," he replied, "but I couldn't find my name written on my pepper."
Friday, July 10, 2009
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
I've been away for a while...OK, a looooong while...and it's hard to get back on the blog wagon. To tell the truth, this is a blog I've been working and reworking in my mind for a while, and just can't seem to get it out. As most of you probably know, my granny passed away on June 19. I don't know how I can possibly express in one blog just how much she meant to me, but I'm going to try anyway.
Granny was beautiful, kind, and had a wicked sense of humor. She bought me my first bikini and my first miniskirt, and somehow managed to convince my dad to let me wear both. I think she enjoyed his discomfort, actually. When I was a kid, I knew her as a Story Teller, and the Keeper of Secrets. Andrea and I always thought we were pulling a fast one on her when we'd get her to tell one story after the other at bedtime. Now I realize she was well aware that we were getting to stay up late, but telling us stories was important to her, so she did it. As an adult, I saw more in her stories, and came to know her as someone who lived through some really hard times and refused to let life take away her sense of fun. She had a smile that was irresistible.
I think that most of my favorite stories will always be the ones that involve Granny, and I hope I remember them well. I'll never tell them quite like she did, but my kids will hear them. Most likely, they'll hear them until they begin to roll their eyes every time I start talking. But hopefully, someday they'll look back and remember the stories, and tell them to their own children. Who will roll their eyes. Because that's how it works.
Granny was beautiful, kind, and had a wicked sense of humor. She bought me my first bikini and my first miniskirt, and somehow managed to convince my dad to let me wear both. I think she enjoyed his discomfort, actually. When I was a kid, I knew her as a Story Teller, and the Keeper of Secrets. Andrea and I always thought we were pulling a fast one on her when we'd get her to tell one story after the other at bedtime. Now I realize she was well aware that we were getting to stay up late, but telling us stories was important to her, so she did it. As an adult, I saw more in her stories, and came to know her as someone who lived through some really hard times and refused to let life take away her sense of fun. She had a smile that was irresistible.
I think that most of my favorite stories will always be the ones that involve Granny, and I hope I remember them well. I'll never tell them quite like she did, but my kids will hear them. Most likely, they'll hear them until they begin to roll their eyes every time I start talking. But hopefully, someday they'll look back and remember the stories, and tell them to their own children. Who will roll their eyes. Because that's how it works.
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