In bed on Sunday night, after yet another chapter of Really, Truly Ruthie, T. and I lay in bed talking about family and growing up. We went through a lenghty list of all the various family members out there, and she counted them on all her fingers, and started over again. Then she asked, "What is YOUR family, Mama?"
I was confused. "My family is your family: you and L. and Papa, of course," I told her.