A few weeks ago, I followed Averi (the youngest of my grandbebes), around with a camera. Each time she “stopped,” I’d try to snap her picture. But she is faster than the digital can handle.
She’d be looking right at me, center screen, giving me that smile all grandmotherly-photographer types are dying to get. And then? Dang it!
Finally. The money shot.
The cousins arrive.
Popsicles all around. Summer is good.
“She’s Like the Wind,” from the Patrick-he-used-to-be-so-cute-Swazye