My daughter Abby turned eight last weekend.
She’d been counting down for days, talking about the cake, the balloons, and which friends from school were coming. Abby’s the kind of kid who says thank you even when you hand her socks for Christmas.
My daughter Abby turned eight last weekend.
So when my mother-in-law, Sharon, showed up carrying a huge gift bag with tissue paper spilling out the top, announcing loudly that “this one is SPECIAL,” I didn’t think twice about it.
Sharon made sure every single person in the room was watching before she placed it dramatically in front of Abby.
“Go ahead, sweetheart,” she said with that smile that never quite reaches her eyes. “Open Grandma’s present.”