I signed the girls in after we walked through the doors of their school. I gave them hugs and kisses and then they went off to put up their sweaters and go play with their friends.
“That little one is a tough one,” their teacher said, as I headed towards the door.
I paused and looked at my baby. “Yes, she is.”
“I’m praying for you when she gets older.”
“Thank you,” I laughed. I definitely need the prayers now and then cause that baby, I suspect, is going to be a lot like her Oma, in her heyday. Stubborn, my way or no way. Yes, definitely need the prayers.
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