BABY PLEASE DON’T GO (months 7 & 8)

Tonight Sophia and the Bookish Girl climbed aboard a big metal bird and flew to the “windy city” for the annual Beaver Reunion. Don’t ask. (I would like to briefly point out that while Chicago is known as the windy city, it is only about the tenth windiest city in the country. The windiest city? Boston. Or a suburb thereof. You can look it up if you don’t believe me. But trust me… I’ve stood shivering on sidewalks of the financial district -completely lost- in forty below wind-chills trying to figure out which freakin street that fluttering street sign that’s fixing to fly right off its post is pointing to. Someday, Boston, I will get my revenge.)

Anyway. This will be Sophia’s first Beaver Reunion. In fact, there were numerous firsts during months 7 and 8. First apples. First black beans (not again… at least not soon). First tofu. First pears… aw, never mind… let’s get to the good stuff:

First car, complete with hotrod flames.

(that Grandma is one wicked garage sale-hunting maniac)

And first (and second) Browns game. And I swear to you… I SWEAR I am NOT making this up: at the end of the Raiders game, Sophia spit out a mouthful of Cheerios and shouted “We wuz robbed, bitches!!!” okay, so I did make that part up. But she DOES look good in orange.

Hence, her first pumpkin patch experience.

Tonight as I saw Sophia and the Bookish Girl off at airport security, I got that sick, hole in my stomach feeling I used to get at Logan Airport when the Bookish Girl and I dated long-distance for a year. Only 8 million times worse. Hurry home baby girl. I can’t hardly stand it.