Connecting the dots, are we?
Baby Uncle is dating a single mom. We all really like her - she mellows him out a lot. She has a son about Mickie's age and a daughter that's about a year and a half old. (I think her divorce started right after BabyGirl's birth.)
I think I might be the first Freckled American BabyGirl has ever seen.
I'm sitting at a patio table, playing Zombie Dice with Andy and Uncle Cool's mom (who is very cool herself, if she's seventy-something years old and learning how to play Zombie Dice). Baby Uncle's GF and BabyGirl are watching beside me. I'm contemplating my next move, and I feel a tiny poke.
I look over, and BabyGirl has her finger out, and she's staring at my shoulders. I was wearing a tank top, and I have freckles all over my upper torso. (Note to self: see dermatologist soon.) I said something sweet to her and went back to my dice...
Poke!
Again, BabyGirl had touched a freckle. I told her "if you're counting those, we'll be here all night." She gazed at me, her mouth quirked. (She's kind of a sober, serious, shy kid.)
The game continued. So did the poking.
I guess she wasn't aware that people come in polka-dots?
Kind of an uneventful cookout, otherwise. My oldest cousin brought his wife and stepson, and said stepson did his best to irritate Mickie. (It doesn't take much.) There was lightning and thunder near the end. My aunts bought Mom a cake (after putting me in charge of desserts, WTF) and cards. (Another note to self: get her a card and some wine first thing Tuesday.)
Barring a sudden wedding or even more sudden funeral, I may not see them again until Labor Day at the earliest. If so, I think I'll wear another tank top, because BabyGirl seems to like freckles.
Even with a nap this afternoon, I'm kind of fatigued (pronounced 'fat-i-gued', ala Bugs Bunny). I'm blaming the run in 90 degree weather this morning...
I think I might be the first Freckled American BabyGirl has ever seen.
I'm sitting at a patio table, playing Zombie Dice with Andy and Uncle Cool's mom (who is very cool herself, if she's seventy-something years old and learning how to play Zombie Dice). Baby Uncle's GF and BabyGirl are watching beside me. I'm contemplating my next move, and I feel a tiny poke.
I look over, and BabyGirl has her finger out, and she's staring at my shoulders. I was wearing a tank top, and I have freckles all over my upper torso. (Note to self: see dermatologist soon.) I said something sweet to her and went back to my dice...
Poke!
Again, BabyGirl had touched a freckle. I told her "if you're counting those, we'll be here all night." She gazed at me, her mouth quirked. (She's kind of a sober, serious, shy kid.)
The game continued. So did the poking.
I guess she wasn't aware that people come in polka-dots?
Kind of an uneventful cookout, otherwise. My oldest cousin brought his wife and stepson, and said stepson did his best to irritate Mickie. (It doesn't take much.) There was lightning and thunder near the end. My aunts bought Mom a cake (after putting me in charge of desserts, WTF) and cards. (Another note to self: get her a card and some wine first thing Tuesday.)
Barring a sudden wedding or even more sudden funeral, I may not see them again until Labor Day at the earliest. If so, I think I'll wear another tank top, because BabyGirl seems to like freckles.
Even with a nap this afternoon, I'm kind of fatigued (pronounced 'fat-i-gued', ala Bugs Bunny). I'm blaming the run in 90 degree weather this morning...