I'm not going to make any excuses.
It's FlapJilly's birthday and we've been celebrating all day.
Grandpa helped her downstairs
and then we went out to breakfast.
She was the belle of the ball, amusing the owner, the waitress, and the grumpy old man who entered with a frown and ate with a grin, waving and playing peek-a-boo with our little darling.
She brings joy wherever she goes.
We're the passive participants, reveling in the reflected glory.
It's among the most fulfilling roles either of us has ever held.
After a nice, long nap, Little Cuter set up the water park in her backyard.
She didn't want to break out the air pump, so the palm tree and the slide were left uninflated.
Grandma's lungs filled the orange ring,
but the water was much more interesting.
She brought her mouth closer and closer,
tried to grab the droplets,
There was a gentle breeze, a sunny sky, and a happy baby.
Life was good.
The afternoon nap was a fantasy.
Between the afternoon's excitement and Thomas the Wonder Dog's barking, sleep was elusive.
So, down she came to the living room, where much fun ensued.
Dinner was eaten, a bath was given, and down she came for more fun.
this sturdy birthday present with the twirling, colorful animals
held her attention
until Daddy needed just one more hug.
She went to bed, the kids went to the movies, and Grandpa and I are babysitting.
Life is good.