Your Grandma Sue spent some time with us last week to help out with our renovation projects. Mostly, she was on Laney Duty, since you seem to lose your ever-lovin' mind every time your dad turns on his compressor.
It was one of those weekends - typical around here - when you wake up in the morning the proud owner of a walk-in shower, and you end the day as the aching, tired owner of a truckload of debris. Progress!
Your dad and I have been working on an clawfoot tub that we're going to install in the bathroom, but I'm not supposed to lift anything over 30 pounds these days. You're currently tipping the scales at 31 pounds, but I let you round down because I don't want to give up holding you. I have no such emotional attachment to this cast iron tub. So, cue the grandma to do the heavy lifting. I know, it's a sad day when we call in the older generation to haul our heavy crap.
We've been working on getting you to say "Grandma Sue," but it always comes out "Ah Sue." I really thought you were sneezing the first few times you said it. The "grandm-" part of her name just isn't making the cut. Could be worse; when you say "Peg Peg," it sounds a lot like "Backpack."
This morning on the ride to school, I thought you were demanding over and over: "More SAUCE!" I couldn't think for the life of me what sauce you were talking about, or if you'd ever even had anything with sauce on it. It took me all the way to the Huson exit to figure out you were saying "Barney SONGS!" because that's what you wanted to hear on the radio. I invite anyone who enjoys party games like Charades, Telephone, etc to spend the afternoon with you, because it's the same kind of mind-bending fun.
Love,
Mom
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