IZ’s sister, who lives in the Philippines, was visiting PDX this weekend–so we made another trip into the city to see her. She’s headed home in August and won’t be back for a few years, so this was our chance to see her one last time.
And of course, we couldn’t refuse the opportunity to snuggle with our babies again. So, family party it was.
For the record, I’m not the only one smitten with a certain blond haired cherub! Barbara has her uncle IZ wrapped around her little finger. We took the opportunity of going into the city again to stop by a few Goodwills to see if I could find any more vintage slips for Mireio. And at the first one, he found this broken down kitchen toy he was convinced she needed. It was so large and missing bits, I wasn’t convinced. “I don’t know, I don’t think you can bring a toy THAT large without getting into trouble. And it’s trashed! Your sister would kill you!”
He wasn’t pleased. “That’s fine, I have 2 more Goodwills to go.”
Sure enough, he found another play kitchen at the next Goodwill. Only this one was in nearly perfect condition–including a cute little window that opens. It was twice the size of the broken down toy he left behind.
“This one? She has to have this one.”
“Ok! But, it stays in the car until you tell your sister that you just bought a HUGE kitchen set for her grandchild and that she gets to keep it at her house. This is on YOU. Auntie Wende had nothing to do with it.”
(Oh, yeah, I’ll totally abandon the ship here. He’s on his OWN!)
“Except you’re paying for it.”
“Shush. And stick with the story.”
Of course his sister couldn’t care less that IZ just hauled a toy the size of a piece of furniture into her house. I kid you not, we barely fit it into our SUV. But once we all got a glimpse of Barbara playing with her new kitchen, it was a done deal. She was over the moon. And IZ gloated all day. “SEE!”
At some point in the day, his sister asked him if he wanted another baby. If WE wanted another baby.
In truth, we’re past it. At 44, our days of sleepless nights and sippy cups are long past us. And grand babies are a LONG way down the road. Do you even know the odds of our having grandchildren before we’re 60? Ask my mathematician son, he’ll tell you they’re not good!
But it’s lovely to be able to practice. To be indulgent and buy ridiculously large kitchen sets and soccer balls and pretty clothes for babies we adore. No, they’re not our grandchildren– but our niece doesn’t seem to mind letting us pretend.
And so, we’re practicing.