I often wonder what my girls will remember about their childhood. Specifically, what they will remember of the role I played in their childhood. I hope it's more than just a recollection of me on one of my many tirades regarding the disaster areas they call bedrooms.
Saturday night after saying bedtime prayers with Megan, I got a glimpse of what kind of memories might stick ...
Me: Good night, Meg.
Megan: Good night. Mom?
Me: Yeah?
Megan: Remember at our old house how you used to play your choir music on Sunday mornings, and how I would sit on your lap eating my waffle, and you would practice your choir songs?
Me: Hmmm. I haven't thought of that in a very long time, but yes, I remember.
Megan: I liked that.
Me: Me too.
Megan: Love you. See you in the morning. Good night.
Me: Love you too. Good night.
I'm thinkin' the memories will work themselves out.
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