A Summer Day

She says, "On your march. Get set. Go!" We take off running. Down the sidewalk. Around the big pine tree. Through the azalea beds. When we get to the day lilies, we stop for her to pick a leh-low one. And then we race back to the front steps. She wins. Of course. So far this morning we've run a marathon in the yard. Painted masterpieces with washable Crayola water colors. Built castles out of orange, green, and red plastic blocks. Made up silly stories about scary lizards. The slimy kind. The ones that want to take up residence on our deck and hold us hostage inside the house. She loves the scare factor as long as she has her blankie for security. I cook her favorite for lunch. Noodles. After lunch I let her eat chocolate chip cookie dough. Just a few squares. With milk. But don't tell her mother about the unbaked dough. Ok? That can be our little secret. I mean God made granddaughters so that their nonnies can indulge them. Right? Gotta whisper. Korie's napping. Sweet dreams, Deb