Firstly, because some people asked, Peter’s and my wedding
plans are progressing, but that is a story for another day.
Today it’s all about Ivy Jean.
Who is walking.
Now in a normal household, this is cause for rejoicing.
In ours…
You have to remember that she is the exact double of Sally.
Exact. Double.
Right up to the mischief part.
Ivy Jean started crawling at about six months and
immediately began getting into stuff.
Then she went almost immediately from crawling to toddling
around, holding onto furniture.
Of course this meant putting everything higher and higher to
get it out of the way.
Do you know the definition of a toddler? Someone two feet tall
with an arm reach of eight feet?
Yeah. That was coined for Sally.
And lives on in Ivy Jean.
And the whole ‘putting things up’? It’s something we haven’t
mastered yet.
And therein hangs a tale.
As the saying goes.
Back to Ivy Jean...
Yesterday, my baby sister came out of the bathroom, waving
something clutched tightly in her chubby little hand.
I ran to her because 1. Peter-and-I-were-babysitting-due-to-Mom-and-Dad-having-to-go-out.
And 2. Ivy-Jean-wasn’t-supposed-to-be-in-the-bathroom-and-who-left-the-door-open?!
Okay, technically, Sally and Mort were also babysitting, but
they had had something ‘important and secret to
discuss’ (Sally’s words) and had left to go for a walk and hadn’t returned, so Peter and I were ‘it’.
I grabbed the ‘something’ out of Ivy Jean’s hand and stared
at it. It was a home pregnancy indicator.
I turned it over.
Positive.
I looked at Peter and my face must have been a picture
because he slowly set his coffee cup on the
table and stood up. “Gwen, what is it?”
“Didn’t Sally just finish making an appointment with the doctor?”
He frowned. “You mean just before she and Mort left?”
“Ummm…yeah.”
He shrugged. “I guess so. What’s up.”
I held out the indicator.
His eyes went wide. He looked at me. “Sally?”
“It must be.”
He sat down again. “Oh.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“But she…” He didn’t finish that thought. “Could she…” He
didn’t finish that one, either.
I rubbed my forehead. “Remember when she decided that
getting a cat was a good idea?”
“And when she jumped out of that helicopter?”
“Or went after that would-be thief?” I looked down at the
indicator. It hadn’t changed.
“And got caught hanging off a mountain in Hawaii?”
Of course, I had to tell him about some of these. He was the one fortunate person who missed most of them…
"Or when she got her start in movies?"
“Or when she got kidnapped?!” we said together.
“Sally, a mother,” I tapped my forehead. “I just can’t quite
get my brain around it.”
Peter shook his head.
I got up to stir the squash
soup bubbling on the stove.
And rescue Ivy Jean, who had given up trying to grab the
indicator out of my hand and was now pushing a chair over to the kitchen
counter.
Just then, the front door burst open and Sally and Mort
burst in. “We have news!” Sally crowed.
I moved closer to Peter and he clasped my hand. I’m not
sure, but I think each of us took a quick, sustaining breath and held it.
Sally opened her mouth, but Mort forestalled her. “We’re finally
going to buy that ranch we’ve been looking at!” he shouted.
I blinked and Peter and I exhaled together. “Erm…what?”
“That ranch!” Sally said. “You know. That one we—”
Mom and Dad stepped into the room behind them, big grins on
their faces. “We have news!” Mom crowed.
Dad walked over and scooped up Ivy Jean. “You’re going to be
a big sister, Jean-Bean!” he announced excitedly.
Peter and I looked at each other.
Oh.
Neither of us knows what the other will do with her words.
This month, Karen gave me:
squash ~ coffee ~ return ~ doctor ~ secret
Thank you, my friend!
Now go see what Karen did with my words!