Birk was getting in the shower. Her 7 year old body jumping up and down and squiggling out of her clothes.
She looked at me with a big smile and joyfully said with a jump to punctuate her point, "Mom, I was the kicker!"
We had been talking about many things that evening. I tried to figure out what she meant. I said, "In soccer?"
"No, mom, in your tummy. Remember? I was the kicker, Ruth was the hiccup-er and John was the roller. Remember mommy?"
Yes, now I am remembering...and smiling right along with her.
