Isabelle and Aubrey

 Some kids come into your life, peaking around their mother’s legs.  Others barely notice

your existence.  Others roar in, in this case, driving/riding on my cousin Julie’s walker, one in a seat, screaming “Hi, Julie.”  Isabelle is the red-haired four-year-old.  Aubrey is two and blond, the sweetest of souls.  These days, when they see me, they run to hug my knees.  I couldn’t be more charmed by them.

Our church provides dinners on the nights we have class.  The cost is minimal, but it

saves our way-busy moms a step.  Dinner is at 5:30; class is at 6:30.  Isobelle and Aubrey, along with their mom, Kiersten, got there a bit early.  Kiersten no more than got their coats off and turned around, and, poof, both kids were gone. 

We found Isobelle in the sound booth, with Shane, our longhaired sound tech, and she was asking him a million questions.  Aubrey wound up in the kitchen, which was a hallway and half-a block away, which had startled our cooks.  Aubrey’s mom was a half-minute behind her.  But somebody had picked Aubrey up, protecting her and keeping an eye on such a fleet-of foot two-year- old. 

Both kids made instant friends with everybody.  But it wore Kiersten out. It was another six weeks before Kiersten came back and the kids had mastered a new lesson:  Stay where your Mom can see you.

When Isabelle turned four, Julie and I were invited to her party.  Both of us brought appropriate books for presents.  Mine was the kind of book that matches the English words with little drawings of the word. Both kids mastered the books in record time.  They were READING.

So, here’s to my two little favorites: kids full of spunk, courage, regal cuteness, intelligence, and love.  They, early on, adopted Julie, walker, wheel chair and all.  Trading rides for knee hugs.  They are firecrackers enough.

Happy Fourth!