On Friday, for the last day of your grandmother's visit, we put her to work on a collection of home improvement projects. A long time ago, I decided that it would be much easier to just buy a sewing machine and use Peg Peg for cheap labor whenever she comes to visit than actually learn how to sew myself. This is called "outsourcing," and I highly recommend it. So on Friday, we were in full sweatshop mode, supervising Peg Peg as she hemmed your pants and tailored curtains for the living room.
We did allow her one break, and she used this free time to make s'mores on our gas stove, which she shared with you.
Let me just say that this is the same woman who hates cooking so much that she'll barely microwave a can of soup, but to make a S'more she'll pull out some bamboo skewers, crank up the stove and get all MacGyver on us. This is where you get your obsessive love of chocolate. But what could be better than s'mores with your grandmother?
By the way, when we ask you questions these days, you frequently make this gesture, which we think is super cute.
On Saturday morning, we had to take Peg Peg to the airport so she could fly home. We were all really sad to see her go, but you were able to console yourself with a plate of peach pancakes at the Cracker Barrel.
Saturday afternoon, your dad put you in the old pick-up and hauled us and the dogs to the feed store to buy two bales of straw. I know this sounds like the payoff to one of those "You may be a redneck if..." jokes, but that's really what we did.
Your dad is right - you really love riding in this old truck. You love it so much that when you're in high school, I'm going to remind you about it and then insist you drive it to school to show it off to your friends.
I have no doubt that this truck will still be running in 14 years. Just like you can't lose a pair of cheap sunglasses, you can't kill a truck like this. No matter how much you may want to.
Love,
Mom
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