Brady Boy (Day 86/365)
Brady is eight, and is one of the five grandchildren with us for a couple of days. First thing this morning after he had scrambled out of bed, he went to the dining room window, and looked out at the snowman they had built yesterday. Sadly, the snowman had deteriorated, for through the night the fog was as heavy as light rain and the temperature was slightly above freezing. He had shrunk, so that his carrot eyes had fallen to the ground.
Ask me how sweet is Brady? All five have sterling, unique qualities, but this one is the sweetest. A charming, compliant little boy. When they were here at Christmas time, I was sitting by Brady on the hearth when I leaned over and said, “I love you, Brady.”
He gave me a half-grin and said in a slightly disgusted way, “Again, Granny?”