Snippets of Grace
8:22p.m. The street urchin from the chorus of any number of Broadway productions has been transformed into my daughter again and is bounce-marching in a circle around my bed singing, "the big parade of numbers is coming your way..." each step punctuated by a syllable, (or is it each syllable punctuated by a step?). Moving to the mirror to comb her hair, she continues, "the big parade..." finishing with, "you can do whatever you want to do." Now changing the cadance, "Hey dude! I'll show you some stuff..." and on and on her chatter continues.