all rolled up into one

She is a cutie. With a grin that lights up a room and a giggle that lights up my heart. She is a smart one and I am not surprised, given her parentage. I love it when she uses a grown-up word and I think I may stump her when I ask if if she knows what it means. She usually does and she can readily define it in her own words. Sometimes she gives me an example – even without me asking. She doesn’t gloat about what she knows or what she can do. It is just who she is and what she does. It’s just Abby. And as smart as she is … she is just that messy. Her little brain is totally organized with everything in the proper boxes. Her surroundings – well that is a whole different story, entirely. She takes up a small conference room table working on her remote schooling at my house. Papers are mixed up with some on the floor and some under her chrome book or on a chair across the room. She constantly murmurs “oh no. Where did I put that paper?” I try to keep my smile and giggle to myself. She always finds it.

(enjoying some lunch while she listens to the teacher reading)

She is blessed with many other talents. She can pull off an impromptu hip-hop at the drop of a backwards baseball cap. She can commit almost any song to memory as well as sing it on key. She continuously sings to herself while playing with Barbie, remote learning, enjoying lunch and sometimes even during karate lessons!

And today she is 8, We celebrate with burgers and cake and gifts at her house with immediate family who have been isolated, She doesn’t seem to notice that the fuss is less this year. She has her cousins and brother and an aunt and uncle; a Papa, a Mahmaw and a Nana, her mommy and daddy, two dogs and so much love that it spills out of the house. Her giggles radiate from the backyard. She opens gifts and hugs each one. Her voice is getting a little hoarse and she swears that she is going through puberty! (She has studied the new books mommy has gotten her lately,) She may be disappointed when, after a day of not yelling in the backyard, her little voice comes back and she discovers that is not to be. Not this year.

For now, she is a happy little 8 year old in the spotlight. Happy Birthday, Abby. This is the only year you will ever be eight.

Breathe it in, my sweet little granddaughter. Nana loves you/