My favorite moment from yesterday: sitting on the deck after dinner enjoying the balmy breeze and smoking a fabulous sweet Nicaraguan cigar, a yearly tradition. My brother, uncle, and mom and dad and I do this every year in memory of my great uncle Bobby, my grandfather's brother. He was a Golden Gloves champion boxer and a huge cigar fan and a larger-than-life character. We miss him terribly.
Anyway, there we all were, basking in the post-turkey afterglow, sipping coffee jacked with Southern Comfort and blowing smoke rings, when my sweet little three-year old niece came out and climbed up on my lap. She threw her arms around my neck and we exchanged kisses and I told her how much I love her and what a big girl she is now (I suppose I am partial to her, but it has nothing to do with the fact that she is named after me and looks more like me than she does either of her parents).
She told me that she had gotten dressed all by herself for Thanksgiving dinner, and I told her what a great job she had done, that she looked gorgeous and she should tell her mommy she can get dressed all by herself every day.
She hopped down and posed for all of us and then she bent over to pick her blanky up off the floor. It was then that we all got the big full moon shot--that's right, no panties. After a beat of silence, the grandparents burst into laughter and my brother said "Yep, we did the right thing naming her after you, sissy. "
My name-sake scampered off for pumkin pie and none of us bothered to call to her mom that she was on her way into the kitchen, pantiless. Sometimes you just have to let things go. I mean, hell, it was Thanksgiving.
1 comment:
That sounds familiar. Not the cigars! The 3-year old sans panties!
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