Morgan: the City Girl

For me, taking Morgan to the park is an experience. You see, I've never lived the ultra-urban life, like she has. She lives in the city on a busy street in a Chicago neighborhood. She is accustomed to hearing sirens, diesel engines, and jets flying overhead as they descend into O'Hare International Airport, whereas these things make me edgy. It's been awhile since I've made the trek into the city alone to visit my daughter and her family. I used to do it quite frequently before Dad moved in last November. To be honest, I had to concentrate really hard just to remember the name of the off ramp. And, at the risk of sounding like one of those 'old folks,' is everyone driving crazily-fast these days? I was cut-off two three times! And, by the way, I was driving ten miles OVER the speed limit. Where is a traffic cop when you need one?

Anyway, I had the great honor and luxury of playing with Morgan for hours on end and I needed it badly. She talks up a storm: Nana? Nana's chickens? Nana's house? Bob? (short for Grandpa Bob, my dad, who she adores and it is very mutual). She repeats EVERYTHING you say too, so you have to be very careful what you say. But she is a joyful child at all times. It purely broke my heart when the babysitter arrived and I had to make my exit. My daughter warned me ahead of time, "Don't be surprised if she cries when Dawn gets here. Just say goodbye quickly and leave." Which is what I did and then I nearly cried when I got to my car. It did not seem right. But I know from experience that she is fine within 60 seconds. And Dawn is a nice person. Morgan is a joy in every way. And she loves her Nana.

PS: Dad survived the 24 hours alone just fine. Apparently. He forgot to eat lunch but he's made it up in Kitkat calories since he woke from his nap.