Tonight, two families gathered down in the social room for Sally's blessing (christening). There's a lot to say about this particular blessing, but I don't want to wax eloquent about loss and renewal; I'm too tired.
I'll skip to something that happened later in the evening. Erica and Murgatroyd were giggling together. "What's so funny?" I asked. They pointed across the room at the refreshment table, where my six-year old grandson, who will now be called Eldon Peever forever more, was eating fruit straight out of the bowl with the serving spoon. Then he poured himself a glass of water, drank some of it and poured the rest back into the pitcher.
He would make a fine character in a third-grade novel.