It'll be a quick blog post tonight. I've come down with a bug and my mom even said I sounded horrid (a word I've never heard her say). Yesterday, I thought my voice was kind of a sexy, raspy one, but today....um, not so much.
Last night, my voice was completely gone and so I went to bed early thinking I'd sleep it off. That didn't work, so when I woke up this morning with my eyes glued shut, a hacking cough, and still no voice, what did Greg say to comfort me?
"My contacts were sticky this morning. I think I got your pink eye."
The good thing is, I couldn't raise my voice, so I just sighed a raspy sigh and laid back down.
Supplies: Typewriter & Maya Mist (Red, Orange, Gold, Green, Blue)
The card says, "I love you a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck," something my paternal grandfather used to say to me. At the time, I was a tender little thing and he was a rough hugger, so all I wanted to do was get away.
Hmm...after reading that, it sounds kind of bad, but I didn't mean it that way.
I was the type of kid that had a tender scalp and only liked certain people to brush my hair, and I was the same way about my hugs and kisses. He had raised 3 rough and tumble boys and so he didn't know how to be delicate with his granddaughters.
Luckily, my mom was polite and always insisted on my sister and I giving him hugs, and this was the phrase he would always say. I can remember asking him what it meant and him taking the time to explain it. Usually, I would follow that question by asking him what happened to his ring finger (he was missing it from the knuckle up). He would always say that when he was a boy, he hung it over the side of the bed during the night and a rat chewed it off. I knew it wasn't true, that he'd actually cut it off with a saw at the lumber yard, but I wasn't going to take any chances. At night, if I had to get out of bed, I'd leap from as far away as I could just in case that rat was hiding. You can never be too safe.
I have fond memories of that grandfather, memories that I plan to pass along.