Thursday, January 20, 2011

And the Oscar Does Not Go To

It turns out I'm not a very good actress.  The blond twin walked up to me and stroked my cheek.  She said, "What's the matter Momma?  You look so worried."

I told her I was worried about Grampa.  She said, "Don't worry.  He'll be okay."  She hugged me and kissed me on the cheek.

Some days I find it hard to believe she's seven years old. 

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