This Man
by cindy
In May, we accompanied the Rooster and his parents to the May Festival at his school. It’s been years since we went to a May Festival but attending this one at the same elementary school our children attended brought back many memories. Memories of being a young mother. Or of just being young, for that matter. And memories of volunteering for this very event, volunteering for years in different capacities. Good years. Good memories.
Suddenly, cutting through my reverie, I heard the voice of Dear Dave, my husband, the father of my children, the love of my life, and all that blech. I heard him calling,
“Cindy! Come here! Come here! Quickly! Come here!”
I looked around, located him over by the playground and headed over to see what he wanted.
“Sit down. Sit! No, right here! Beside me! Closer! Here! Smile! I want to take a ‘stuffy’.”
A WHAT???
“You know. A stuffy“
And with that I realized he was aiming his big-ass super-duper digital camera, the one that requires a crane to lift, backwards toward the two of us.
“Dave, do you mean a selfie?”
“Whatever. SMILE!!!”
