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The Happy Dance: Blondies and Brownies


Grace and Chris did “the happy dance” last night. 

The first time I saw Grace do this was on my deck in Branford.  Chris and I had been spending most weekends together, usually with one full day traipsing over the Connecticut River to Graceland to spend time with her.  It was 45 miles out, and 45 miles back, so we would try to find things to do out on the other side of the River.  (It was still a bit awkward to ask her mother to come to my house for one of those trips.)

He was used to spending days in the car with her, as that was what they did as she went from infant to toddler to little girl.  

I decided we needed to break that pattern and spend a day in my neck of the woods.  We went to Bishop’s Orchard to play in the hay maze and pick out pumpkins, then to my house to carve them. 

I hate carving pumpkins so I was happy to hand this duty over to Chris while I made an early season Turkey Dinner.  I watched out the kitchen window, as Grace, who had never carved pumpkins before, stood on the deck, wingspan half stretched, and flapped her hands.  (I knew I was in trouble.)

Fast forward to our first fall weekend of the season with her.  That means fire in the fireplace, her favorite soup, Hocus Pocus and baking. 

I was upstairs when Chris walked in the door from work.  What did I get?

No kiss.  No hug.

Just,  “There’s talk of cookies?”

“Yes, Blondies and Brownies”

Hence the dancing.

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