We recently went to a friend’s house for a barbeque. They live in a huge, amazingly beautiful home with an awesome yard. Since it rained a good part of the day, we mostly sat in an enclosed pavilion and enjoyed a fire.
The children ran outside to play on the sport court, playground or wiggle cars whenever the sun made a brief appearance. It was better than going to the park.
On the way home my 5-year-old daughter Vanessa asked me, “Mom, is this really our life or is it on paper? Because I feel like there is a guy writing it.”
“Why?” I asked. I always know with Vanessa the answer won’t be anything I could imagine.
“Because if it was our life and we made it,” she replied, “why wouldn’t we live at that big house, where all those little girls live and have the twirl staircase? I think it would be way better.”