Not enough soapsuds in the world.
Little Man eagerly ran over to me this morning to show what appeared to be a little black wad of thread cradled in his chubby cherub-like hands. BUT IT WASN’T A THREAD, it was a DEAD FLY! As I grabbed his little hand and broke out in heebie geebie chills the fly bounced up and hit me in my right eye. The fly then ricocheted off my cheek and cascaded down towards the floor. Gucci dolphin kicked into the air and in slow motion snatched the fly like she was a trout starved from the harsh winter.
Catching our breath and staying clear from Gucci’s, we momentarily gazed at each other. Then as if the wash your hands Lord screamed from above all three of us ran for the turpentine showers.
My babies know the drill. I am blessed.
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Happy Birthday Pa Pa Fred. I love that you are laughing, happy, and singing in heaven. I love you, miss you, and still want to be just like you.
Love,
your brown-eyed Steffy
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