” Counting the Years”

LuAnn reports that she had a birthday last week. She also reported an adorable story that deserves to be shared. LuAnn was celebrating one of the big ones, a birthday with a nice round number, and that’s as far as I’m going. I know better. LuAnn is one of those belles who freely admits that she doesn’t give a fig about aging gracefully—she’s fighting it every step of the way. She and her husband have four grown kids and a passel of grand young ‘uns and great grand younguns. Most of them are within throwing distance, but some are scattered out in various states. Everyone that could come in for LuAnn’s big day did just that.

Somehow or another, they managed to throw her an actual surprise party, too, without her being any the wise. It was a for real shindig, cake and ice cream, presents, balloons, the works! Word is LuAnn is still smiling. I’m told all she wants to talk about is her grandkids and great grandkids and how smart they all are. I don’t much blame her. I’m guilty of that myself with my wee ones. As a matter of fact, I’ve gotten to where I like to tell cute grandkid stories period, whether they’re mine or not, which brings us back to LuAnn.

During the surprise party, one of LuAnn’s youngest grandsons was standing near the table studying her birthday cake. I believe the kids had put one candle for each decade and one to grow on. Clearly, the low number of candles was confusing the poor boy. At one point he crawled up into his Grammy’s lap and looked her full in the face. “Grammy,” he said, all serious like, “How old are you?”

“Why, I’m thirty-nine and holding,” LuAnn said.

LuAnn reports that little Jim thought on that for a minute, his big blue eyes unblinking. “Grammy,” he said finally, “How old would you be if you let go?”

Hugs,
Shellie