Sitting in the garth after church, snacking and visiting with a fellow parishioner across the table, I suddenly felt a little bump. My friend pointed to my lap and said, “Your grandbaby just face-planted into his pickle.”
What?! I looked down and sure enough he was out cold.
I snuggled him close and, for a moment, felt that all was right with the world. Nothing makes a grandmother happier than holding their child’s child.
He slept all the way to the car, all the way home, into the house, and late into the afternoon. Is there anything sweeter than a sleeping baby?
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