Today marks the thirty-day mark of the day I became old - my baby turned one a month ago. He's learning how to open doors, cruising along the furniture, and pulling up on anything sturdy enough so that he can pull down anything within reach.
Much has happened in the world of Dunny. We've made our annual pilgrimage to the hubby's homeland, and seen Andrew's granddad for the last time - on Father's Day, no less. I'm going to take a minute here to share with you, faithful readers, what I shared with Andrew during our time in England. When engaged couples go through premarital counseling - if they do - they are likely to discuss spousal roles and responsibilities as each individual perceives them, financial concerns and budget plans, and of course the gravity of seriousness of the commitment they're making to each other: It's meant to be forever, not until it gets rough. I think it's an absolute testament to what true love is that Grandmum cared for Granddad mostly on her own, with true and lasting love and patience, even when it got really rough - rougher than many of us ever imagine during those dreamy-eyed betrothal days - for the better part of years.
Now that I've made you cry, I'll give you time to go wipe up your mascara and meet me back here next time.
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