Which to tell you? Which to tell you?
I signed up for E-mealz. (Public Service Announcement: You should, too. $15 for 3 months. It gives you weekly meal plans/recipes - it has a ton of different options - and a grocery list. And, it tries to economize, so I spend much less on groceries than I ever have before.)
Last night called for cheese grits as a side. I'm always a fan of making my kids try new things. "Just one bite. Taster's Club (as many bites as your age), if you want dessert." No fuss, no muss, no drama. Do or don't. Their choice. But, they've discovered quite a few things that they actually like in their quest to attain dessert each night (and by "dessert" I mean a piece of candy out of the Candy Basket).
Anyway, back to cheese grits. Personally, not a fan. Elizabeth scarfed them down like they're about to stop making grits forever. Spencer... really wanted dessert. He took a bite and gagged. A bonafide, legitimate gag. I looked away to try to let him suffer without an audience. He started chewing. And chewing. (A sign that you really don't want to eat something: When you're chewing the unchewable. How exactly does one chew grits?) I started talking to Elizabeth and... splash! He barfed out the grits he had tried to swallow.
Alright, son. Point taken. You really do not like grits. Go get dessert.
Shawn and I had a beloved professor in college. Actually, he was advisor to both of us. He rocked. He was an hysterical smart-ass. He was hard.
Studying for Surviving his class is when Shawn and I got to know each other so well. He's also probably the only reason I have a degree in accounting. I loved him (and I hate accounting). We still send him Christmas cards. He always wrote back. Last year he didn't write back.
Today, I dropped Elizabeth off at school. Her teacher said, "You live on the same street as one of our other families."
"Yes. As a matter of fact, the mom said you sent her parents a Christmas card." (So, we sent a Christmas card to the grandparents of some of the kids at our school. hmmm...)
"Really?! I wonder who her parents are?" (Especially, since there are precious few people up here that we even know to send Christmas cards to. I was thinking more along the lines of one of Shawn's business associates.)
"I don't know. But, I think her dad was a teacher."
I screamed his name. Elizabeth's teacher agreed that that was right. And, I realized that the mom's name the teacher was telling me was the name of The Daughter that he would go on and on about, he adored her so. And, then the teacher said...
"He's passed away. She said she didn't think you knew."
I almost cried in the hallway.
I can't wait to meet The Beloved Daughter. But, first, I came home and wrote her a note that I'm going to drop in one of her kids' bags. I don't think I can tell her what her dad meant to Shawn and me without blubbering like a loon - and what a first impression that would be.