I guess I should have been a bit more vague because it's not really a moment but a thing. My Grandma Urban would always pat our thighs when we sat on her lap or next to her. I have lots of treasured memories but this one sticks out the most. I have found myself doing this with both of my children and it always brings back that sweet memory of feeling loved, safe, secure and all was right with the world.
My church is having a cake contest tomorrow evening at their Wednesday night dinner kick-off event.
The age ranges start at Kindergarten but Mark is going to enter a cake. He can compete with K through 6th graders. He's probably made more cakes than all of them combined.
Mark loves to bake.
He picked out a funfetti cake mix, strawberry frosting, and star-shaped sprinkles.
I thought Henry would enjoy making/decorating a cake but when he got more of the details, he didn't like the idea of making a cake he wouldn't get to eat.
I *think* the cakes will be auctioned at the end of the contest, but I'm not certain.
So I bought several disposable square cake pans. That way, we can make two cakes out of each mix. We'll eat one and compete with the other.
My favorite memory of my grandmother is watching M*A*S*H with her late at night. She would let me sneak out of bed after my parents went to sleep. We would sit in her den wrapped in blankets, watch TV and she would tell me what it was like to be a nurse in world war II.