Our youngest son, Bill, and his family flew into Tulsa on Christmas Day, 2004.
Grandma Sandy found for five year old Ben the little match box cars he requested; his
daddy and uncles had played with these when they were children. Stevie, seven, cuddled
up on a big chair next to the fireplace and read a mystery book; he expressed how
comfortable he felt there and called it “my thinking chair,” adopting the phrase from a
popular children’s TV show, “Blue’s Clues.” The two boys obviously felt at home at
Grandma’s house.
I began reading to them--- but Stevie quickly took over, and read to Ben old letters
written to Santa by Bill’s brothers, Uncle John and Uncle Jeff, requesting presents.
Stevie marveled and laughed at their poor spelling.
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