I miss their stories. They would tell the craziest stories that you knew were not even close to true but you would pretend to believe them anyway just to hear all they could muster up with their wild imaginations. My mind is drawing a blank on some of the stories right now, I just remember the faces of the kids as they told their outlandish tales.
I miss their sweet comments. (Let me assure you they didn't just have nice things to say. They would ask me, "What are those red dots on your face?" I would respond, "Something I hope you get a lot of when you grow up." Just kidding..I wouldn't say that....) One of my favorite campers would say, "Miss Annie, I like your freckles." And then I would ask, "What else do you like about me?" Then she would list all the things she liked about me, "I like your hair, I like your shirt (the camp shirt that I wore everyday and every other counselor would wear), I like your shoes..." You get the point. She had a little St. Louis accent and I adored her.
Ok. I would be lying if I said that all this kid talk didn't make me think about my own kids. I am just so excited to meet them. Is that weird? What are they going to be like? Will they be sporty and an extravert like me? Of will they be shy and quiet? Could I handle a shy kid? I hope so. But if my Grandma's predictions are right I'm going to be "blessed" with a daughter just like me. She predicted the same thing with my mom, and here I am, incredibly similar to my mother.
|got this from pinterest. such a cutie!|