french vanilla ice cream

My son has pretty much raised his daughter on his own.  Her mom, a beautiful wisp of a thing, nose dived and left when the baby was 5 months old.  when the baby was just under 7 months old mom was in a car accident — riding in her car, drunk, with a guy, also drunk.  they spun out on a wet road, heading away, not towards the house where her daughter lived, at 4 in the morning and she broke her back.  And so continued the saga that has been her life.

But this post is about my son.  And his daughter.  The years have passed, the grandbaby is turning 4 tomorrow  and today my son gave her a party.  Each year we have celebrated her birthday — everything pink and soft and warm, usually i bring the decorations and cake, my oldest makes a banner and the youngest fills in with dips,chips and balloons. 

But this year was different.  We arrived to a beautiful array of cinderella and snow white.  An appetizer table, thats right, an appetizer table bedecked with onion dip and cheese queso, chips, sweet peanuts and chex mix.  And big square disney princess plates and napkins and tablecoverings.  A huge Cinderella castle balloon.  And my beautiful granddaughter holding court at the table bedecked in the Cinderella dress I had bought her last year.  My son, and his wonderful girlfriend had prepared a party fit for the princess our girl is….and they had done it without help, direction or reminders.

And they even had french vanilla ice cream.

My work here is done.

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