I was going to write a long post about how much I enjoyed my
weeks’ vacation with the kids.
How nearly every moment felt special, as if scripted in my
movie treatment of the perfect vacation. How seeing Ruby’s expressions in the
American Girl store was beyond priceless. How thrilled Jack was when I rode the
Phoenix with him at Knoebel’s Grove. How Ruby’s (and Jack’s) face lit up when in
the midst of a roomful of kittens. How the long car ride was made more than
bearable with constant replays of the “Help” CD. How “picking” at the farm, to
me the most mundane of things, meant so much to Jack.
How I hope that their
memories of the week are burned into their subconscious that way they are
burned into mine.
So, although I would like to list every activity in joyous
minute-by-minute detail, I will just leave it as this:
Pity that there
aren't more of them.
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