Sunday, October 21, 2012

Musings on the Elf

When Penelope was a wee babe, she was mean. And funny, and strange and whip-smart and she clung to me like I was the last fence post to be swept up in the tornado.

She was born "sunny side up" (just like her sister) with her rather short umbilical cord wrapped tightly around her neck. As my genius mid-wife guided her out safely, she said: "Hmmm. A Cancer child. They like to stay in their shells."

I have thought about those words more in these past few months than ever before. She will fly, my PJ. I'm sure of it.

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