When I was teeny tiny myself, I went to Debs and Dorothy's house while my parents were at work. They lived on a farm in the boonies. We took long walks on dirt roads, made mud pies and played dress up with Dorothy's wardrobe.
I guess I've always appreciated that touch of mink. It complements the Cookie Monster slippers nicely.
They treated us like their own grandkids, giving us nicknames. They called me Bubber and we nicknamed Mary, Albert. I really wanted a brother.
They made lunch and sometimes dinner for us, promoting Mary's love for mustard by the spoonful and my appreciation for Five Alive.
Looking for someone to watch Bennett was very stressful. Around here, there are no farms for raising babies. I can only imagine how much easier it was for my parents to take me to the warm and happy home of my surrogate grandparents. I just hope that when Bennett gets older I'll be able to tell him as many happy stories about his experience as my parents have for me.