The snow fell last night -- not so much, maybe 3 or 4 inches. But it was a snow day for Rachel's school. So I called in the morning and asked if it might be a Scrabble day. Sure, said she, when other chores and errands were out of the way. Later on she called she called to ask if it was okay if Cory and the baby came along. What kind of a great-grandmother would I be if I wasn't happy to see them? So little Finn had his afternoon nap and there they were. He was bright eyed and bushy tailed, he's recently learned not only to crawl but to pull himself up on anything handy.
As a threesome, we have a history of competitive Scrabble playing. In fact, Cory is competitive about all games and inspires others with her spirit. [Never mind interesting words, it's the score that matters!] There was plenty of recently vacuumed crawling space and a choice of toys but Finn, like most babies, loves attention. As I learned in my days writing for the theatre, an animal or a baby gets all the attention no matter what else is going on. Finn needed constant attention and Scrabble got divided attention.
No complaints. I didn't win, Rachel won really by default because Cory got caught with the Q and no place to play it. The game is truly secondary to the four generational scene and the center of the scene, of course is 8 month old Finn, master of physical accomplishment, red hair finally covering his formerly bald pate, face making all those adorable baby expressions. How better to spend an afternoon with snow sparkling on the ground and dinner planned and easy to prepare when we all say goodbye after a couple of hours together?
David Allen writes - THE END OF RENNIE And so it goes, Rennie has blown up and I left to ponder the question of existence once more. What was weird this time was I wasn’t ma...
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