Here comes Crazy Legs

Emily called tonight after dinner. She was laughing so hard I could hardly understand her at first. She had decided to see if the outfit I made for Sofia last summer finally fit her and Sofi was running through the house in it, barefoot, whooping. I could hear her in the background. That's one of her shoes in her hand. Emily hung up to take a picture and emailed me a couple.

Sofia, since turning a year old, has become a character. She's been walking for a little less than a month, but has embraced the concept and lurches around like a drunk, but with great enthusiasm. She is mighty pleased with herself.

She has also, unfortunately, put it together that when I show up at her house her parents are about to leave, which doesn't make her happy. Today she got pretty upset about her Dad getting ready to go to work. I was sitting on the floor with her, trying to distract her. She spotted my purse on the chair, went and dragged it across the floor, put it on my arm and then stood in front of me and waved "bye-bye" at me, sobbing pitifully all the while. That seemed like a pretty clear message—"you can leave now, Grandma." After Cayo left she settled down and made peace with me and we had a good afternoon, then she had the grace to cry a little bit when I left after her Mom got home. Parting is such sweet sorrow.