Once I got old enough to be one of the "big kids" who thought the "little kids" were precious and hilarious, it became a ritual for me to ask my grandmother for cousin stories whenever we talked. These stories were labeled by name, so I would ask for a "Connor story" or a "Rainey story" or whoever was the funniest (read youngest) at the time. Well, Rainey is growing up, so she doesn't make as many comical comments or confuse things, and I guess I can grudgingly admit that's the way it should be. However, my favorite story from our Abilene trip a few weekends ago is a "Rainey story," and because it might be one of the last of its kind, I'm treasuring it.
I wish I could share it with you, but it takes too much background, and my comic timing has yet to be perfected in writing. Maybe I'll tell it the next time I see you. It involves a painted goat and a mistaken twin; all the elements of a great story.
The point of this post is that I value shared history with people, and I love that I share so many memories with the people I love. While in Abilene, Sam and I also got to spend some time laughing with several members of my mom's family and reliving some of our crazy antics. I'm sure he's heard some of those stories a hundred times already, but he's a good sport. And I'm looking forward to writing new stories with him that we'll laugh at while sitting around a living room someday.
I'm also looking forward to experiencing more shared stories with Rainey and all the people I love. They might not be centered on childlike naivete, but I'm sure some of them will be funny. After all, it's been a charming 23 years filled with love and laughs, and I'm still writing my life.
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