The older my sweet girl grows, the more I am flooded with memories of my own childhood. Small moments that seem to have escaped me over time.
She loves to help, this sweet girl of mine, and finds even the most mundane tasks a source of great interest.
I stood by the kitchen counter, staring out at the rose garden as I organized the various iCords that always seem to cause the most clutter. Lost in thought, I didn’t hear her approach on slippered feet.
Why are you doing that? What does it do?
She brought me back to the kitchen for a minute; I had almost forgotten what I was doing, as tends to happen when you’re lost in the ordinary.
When I looked down at my girl, so very me in so many ways, I suddenly remembered a very similar scenario with my dad when I was just about her age…
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