I haven't figured out the appeal of Instagram, but the Lovely Daughter posted this photo today and I love it.
Her tiger-look-alike kitty's name is Jamison, which is a reflection of his having been brought home to her as a gift by her apartment mate, who acquired him from a guy in a bar who was giving away a litter of kittens.
Twenty-five years ago we hosted a third birthday party for her brothers on August 1, a month early, thinking that we might be busy with a new baby by the time September 1 arrived. On that particular August 1, the first signs of her imminent arrival appeared, but it took her nineteen more days to get here.
I suppose that it was about this week-end that I was hanging out with a friend at her city park and saying, as we sat in the baby pool where our three boys were playing, "I suppose that I might be in labor. Or not." "Robin!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?!?"
"It's hot," I said.
Or perhaps this was the week-end that I spent with another mother of twins the same age as mine at her city pool, and showed her how much twin skin was still left over when one reached the end of a pregnancy with only one baby. We had a good laugh over how small a belly with just one six-pound baby inside actually is.
At any rate, that August spent moving from pool to pool produced an impressive end result, don't you think?