July Seventh.

Today, I felt like wearing the new apron my momma sewed for me last week, so I did. All day. It was quite feminine and lovely.

We ate bananas and nectarines for breakfast and cheese rollups for lunch.

This afternoon, a lady dropped by and took the very first puppy. I cried as I kissed the little guy goodbye. Not in sobs or anything; just a few tears. As the lady said goodbye, I just waved. She looked up at me and smiled. I think she understood. Those puppies are my grandchildren, after all. And I spent the rest of the day wondering if Bella would feel a little empty. Or if she'd even realize he was gone. Or if she'd say to herself: One down. Nine to go.

Jared golfed until evening, while I sorted through Meg's wedding things. Then it was off to grocery shop.  Driving home, I looked back at Morgan from the passenger mirror. He had one shoe on and one shoe off and was munching on a box of crackers we had to open up halfway through the store because he was threatening a meltdown of sorts. There in the car he was so cute to me. He really is my sweetest, most  best friend. Even when he's grumpy.

Later on, I told Jared I never wanted him to grow up. (I meant it.)

As if on cue,  he said, "Don't worry, he won't."

I think that's what I'll choose to believe.