Seventeen years. That’s how old Summer is today. Usually, a lot of paragraphs that start this way continue with Remember when…. Why should this one be different? Remember when she was not as tall as the kitchen counter? Oh, yes. Remember when we went to her great-grandparents for Thanksgiving and she kept backing up against her great-grandpa’s legs so he would get the hint and lift her up to put the basketball through the hoop? This IS Indiana, don’tcha know.
Remember when she and her grandpa went and cut down out Christmas tree?
Remember when she was a little adamant about not losing at Scrabble?
Remember when she ran into the garage and hugged her great-grandma around the knees from behind when the latter arrived for a visit?
Remember when she and I went through a car wash pretending we were being eaten by a monster and then when we reached the end of the conveyer belt ride and were rolled out, we realized we hadn’t thought this analogy out?
Well, let’s see what this day will bring . . .
I think this is the second, or maybe the third birthday of Summer’s that I have celebrated. And thanks to a migraine yesterday I am a day late this year. I have to admit that I like this girl. Never met her but the words you use to describe her, to share her spunky attitude, her wit, and her sarcasm purposely used make me just want to claim her. I think she and my daughter Cora would be dangerous together (sarcastic wit and all, we would be in trouble if they joined forces). I believe also she has a great generous spirit inside her, and a lot of love for a grandmother whom I suspect shares a lot character traits. 17. Wow. Send her to Houston for a road trip, I’ll take care of her. 🙂