Now, compare it to pictures that were taken almost exactly two years ago at the same event, the Godiska Family Reunion. Whaaaaa ... what happened? Where did my baby go? Who is this freakishly tall Amazonian mer-child who lives in my house and eats all my cheese? And whose highlight of the entire weekend was seeing a dead fish on the banks of the creek (pronounced "crick," BTW)?
Same park, same creek, same picnic, except this time, instead of clutching on to my hand for dear life, I was the one making her way over the rocks unsteadily, while Shae was off exploring with the "big kids" -- and I actually mean BIG KIDS, a clutch of my cousins who are all in their 20's and who, as I understand it, think my kid is kind of a Big Deal.
Although, in my defense, my shakiness was due in large part to the fact that I was trying desperately to not drop my camera in the water as I stood there choking back heaving sobs while my little girl, so small just a short time ago -- just yesterday, wasn't it? -- ran off with the big kids and didn't need me any more. A sad and lame excuse, yes, but the truth nonetheless. (Also, my legs are much shorter than Shae's, who is starting to resemble a water strider more than anything else.) But still.
"When I was young, a teacher had forbidden me to say 'more perfect' because she said if a thing is perfect it can't be more so. But by now I had seen enough of life to have regained my confidence in it." -- Norman MacLean
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