Well, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree (to continue the vegetation simulation). Alea has been reading “Where the Red Fern Grows,” which I told her was one of my all-time favorite books. I also had told her that it is one that makes me cry at the end, and so she should keep that in mind.
Well, she reads a little bit before bed every evening, and in the dark of her bedroom with just her reading light on last night, she finished it.
And cried in bed for a good hour afterwards.
And woke Breck up with her hitching sobs.
And brought us in to try to comfort her.
We hugged her and cuddled with her - and she was OK to talk about it this morning - but she was pretty upset about the fates of Old Dane (as she calls him) and Little Ann.
Just like her dad was when he was her age.
(And in another perfect example of how the kids sometimes inherit traits from one parent and not the other, we got an email from Grandpa Joe and Grandma Lorna that they’d received a postcard from India, but it was signed so they weren’t sure who the big tiger safari hunters were.
Susan asked the kids, “Why didn’t you sign it?” They looked at each other, shrugged, and replied, “Because you didn’t tell us to.”
I had to laugh, and Susan had to scowl, because that would have been my exact response as well.)
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