Wednesday, November 18, 2009


Yesterday afternoon, Hubby came home from work and dropped into the blue armchair. He dozed off and on while I watched tv, did laundry, and the girls napped.

In short order the girls woke up, and when I came downstairs from getting something, Small Fry was in Hubby's lap, snuggled up against him.

"Watch this," he whispered.

He moved his hands.

Small Fry sat up, gave him a look, and laid back down on his chest.

He chuckled and put his arms around her, kissing her on top of her head.

He explained that she'd come downstairs and marched right up to him. His eyes were closed, and she just tapped him. As soon as he opened his eyes, she demanded to get up in his lap.

I chuckled.

A few minutes later, Small Fry was sitting up on Hubby's lap. I was getting ready to go for a walk, and I was strapping on my AirCast for extra support while I walked.  Hubby's hands were clasped together in front of Small Fry .

She shoved one aside. Hubby grinned at her and moved it back when she shoved the other one aside.

Indignant, Small Fry demanded, "Move yew hands!"

"Why?" Hubby asked, moving his hands aside.

Small Fry didn't say a word. She just dropped down against his chest and grinned in triumph as her favorite uncle wrapped his arms around her again.

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