It wasn’t too long ago. I was sitting in my office, tapping away at the keyboard, trying to meet a deadline, when the doorbell rang. Our oldest daughter and her family had arrived. An expected visit to drop off our two grandsons so Mom and Dad would go out and remember why they started this whole plan years ago.
“He’s in his office.”
He bebopped in, a big smile on his face. “Hey, Papa.”
“Hey, buddy. Did you come to see me?” I extended my arms for a hug.
“Yep.” He gives me a hug and looks at the computer screen. “Whatchadoin’?”
Wanting to see how the wheels would turn in that over-imaginative head of his, I said, “Papa is writing a book.” (I knew it would spark interest because he’d just started learning how to read, and books were such a new, “cool” thing to him.)
“You’re writing a book?” The look on his face was precious. The wonder in his eyes and the astonishment in his tone said it all.
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