Dad

Aunt Grace has been visiting, Sylvie, and you have begun to chatter up a storm! Last night we strung lights around the picnic table and your dad carried you up and down the chord, showing you all the sparkles. You must have thought it was pretty cool, because this morning at your changing table, you pulled yourself up to the windowsill, looked at the lights (I forgot and left them plugged in all night), and said "Da-da!"