My friend A has a son, G., whom I consider my first baby. He's ten now, but he was born (ten years ago, obviously) before Chris and I got married, when we had plenty of time on our hands, and I hung out with A and G almost every weekend. Then both of our families moved to new houses and weren't able to visit as often, but A and I still talk on the phone almost every day. (G apparently loves it when A relays to him funny stories about Mallory and Phoebe.)
When Mallory was 8 or 9 months old, we had a daycare crisis and A babysat for a day or two. During her naps, G sat outside the bedroom door with a plastic baseball bat in his hands, just in case bad guys came to get her.
A few days ago, A told G that Mallory would be starting kindergarten soon. G asked if she'd be going to his school and A said no. G said, "That's too bad. If she came to my school, she'd have someone to take care of her. She wouldn't have to worry about a thing."
I'm a little sad that our families have grown apart and we don't see each other very often. But it's nice to know that G will always be there for Mallory anyway.
When Mallory was 8 or 9 months old, we had a daycare crisis and A babysat for a day or two. During her naps, G sat outside the bedroom door with a plastic baseball bat in his hands, just in case bad guys came to get her.
A few days ago, A told G that Mallory would be starting kindergarten soon. G asked if she'd be going to his school and A said no. G said, "That's too bad. If she came to my school, she'd have someone to take care of her. She wouldn't have to worry about a thing."
I'm a little sad that our families have grown apart and we don't see each other very often. But it's nice to know that G will always be there for Mallory anyway.
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Mom