Nani and Grumpa were going through some boxes in the garage and found an old workbook I had used when I was a Camp Fire Kid (kind of like Girl Scouts/ Boy Scouts). I flipped it open and came to the introduction page. It said : My name is Cammie. I am 7 years old. I have blonde hair (it was back then!). I have blue eyes. I am 40 inches tall. I am 47 lbs. Hmmm.... So, when I was seven years old I was forty inches tall... And Sadie is eight months old and she is already a strapping thirty inches tall. I'm really starting to believe that she will pass me before she starts kindergarden. She's already only an inch away from being half of Nani's height!
Thirty inches may still be small (at least when compared with the general population), but she has a powerful pair of lungs. She is usually pretty good when we are in restaurants, but today when we were in Red Lobster she let at a squeal/scream that was absolutely ear splitting. I'm surprised that the glasses in the bar, on the other side of the room, didn't break. It wasn't an upset scream. It was a happy-cheerful-I'm-so-silly-my-tiny-body-can't-contain-the-happiness type of scream, which is probably why so many people turned around and smiled. It followed some uncontrollable giggling, only a few minutes after I was silly enough to do "round and round the mountain, the little mousy goes" on her hand. She needed to remind me that I can't play that game with her and then expect her to use her indoor voice. Just like Pop Goes the Weasel, it's just too much fun.
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