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Game time

Written by: Suzanna Palmer July 15 2012 Last week, Jacob and I spent some time in California at the home of my parents, his Grammie and Pops. (Or Gramsie and Popsie. Or Gram and Pop. Jacob hasn’t let us know which one he prefers yet.) And though there was lots of work to be done—my...

Written by: Suzanna Palmer

Last week, Jacob and I spent some time in California at the home of my parents, his Grammie and Pops. (Or Gramsie and Popsie. Or Gram and Pop. Jacob hasn’t let us know which one he prefers yet.) And though there was lots of work to be done—my parents are moving across the country, and we spent the week helping them pack—we still found plenty of time for fun.

In between having a successful two-day garage sale, selling things on Craigslist, and packing up the house, we filled our days with the stuff that a kid ought to do when visiting grandma and grandpa’s house.

We played in the pool. (Or, at least Jacob did. I was about 145 pounds over the plastic pool weight limit.)

We fed the neighbor’s goats. There was lots of laughter and a few nibbled fingers.

We played in the cardboard moving boxes, turning them into makeshift tunnels and houses.

And, of course, we played plenty of games of “peek-a-boo.” After just a few rounds with my mom, I’m proud to say my little guy mastered the game. He spent the rest of the vacation holding up everything he could get a hold of—an American flag, his shirts, his teething cloths—in front of his face only to throw it down a moment later with a big, expectant grin, waiting for our “Peek-a-boo!”

To top the week off, our little guy even got to taste a smidgeon of ice cream. (But, shhhh, don’t tell his mom!) Don’t worry, he worked off the sugary calories helping us clean up around the house:

But, of all the things that warmed my heart during the week, my favorite was watching my parents and my little guy fall in love with each other all over again. (The last time they saw him he was 8 weeks old.) Sadly, our trip came to an end all too soon, and now we’re now back in Atlanta. But, for me, the memories—and the pictures—are here to stay.

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