Three is the Magic Number

Alright, I admit it, out of the three of us, I’m the difficult one.  ‘Twas not always so. Once in college, I told Aaron we had a problem because I liked him, liked him, and he said inconsolably, “We do have a problem.” And, then I spent years being really nice and fun until he married me and I could still be nice and fun but also sometimes grouchy.

Also, I was pregnant and gave up all my best bad habits and labored like a pro!

Now, Aaron dresses up like a pirate and looks bizarrely like my brother. Not that this alone makes him great, but that he, who is often socially awkward and shy, asked one of his Peter Pan “play”mates to take a picture of him just so I could post it here makes him pretty nice.

And, Clara. Well, okay, I’m coming out with it. She’s such an easy baby that I sometimes think she heard me bellowing  when she was two-months-old. Her morning ritual is to crawddle over to a little nook in between the bookshelf and sofa and read to herself. For an hour. She yappers at the books and pulls others down, and meanwhile, I say, “Oh, good, Clara, that’s a bunny!” She tolerates these interjections with a glance and then resumes her reverie.

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