Today is my niece's second birthday.
She's eight.
I was there when she was born. We brought her home, set her on her blanket (the very first baby quilt I ever made) and she promptly rolled over ... except for her head, since she didn't have the strength to hold it up.
A couple of years later, I went to visit and every day she said "I don't like you anymore. Go back to Ottawa." The last day we were out on the front step and a plane flew over. I said, "See that? Tomorrow I'm going to be on a plane like that." She looked at me and said, "I miss you."
She came to visit three times before she was two, then she didn't come to Ottawa for a few years. I think she was five when she decided she liked my house and declared, "When our house gets too old, we will come and live with you."
She's changed her mind since. Now she is never moving to Ottawa ... but she'll come to visit so we can go to Calypso. (And, of course, to go on trains and boats. She doesn't get to do that much at home.)
She loves animals - so much so that she refuses to watch the movie Up (which she's seen once) because it was too sad when they caught the bird.
Right now, she's on vacation in Hawaii. Apparently she wants a monk seal for her birthday. I think that means I get the dog.
I asked her if she was going to go in the ocean. She said no, she was just going to go swimming at the beach.
I gave her my old boxing gloves last summer, and now every time I see her we have to box.
Happy birthday, monkey. Keep your wrist straight.
Let It Be Christmas
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