Let me elaborate. This week I am spending some vacation time with my husband and daughter and granddaughter in Williamsburg Virginia. This area is full of history on the beginning of our country. Williamsburg, Jamestown and nearby Yorktown are filled with historic places and museums and street plays about the beginning of our country. With the beautiful fall weather we have loved sauntering through the tree lined streets and reading about the fight of our ancestors against the Spanish and the British to gain their liberty. We attended a wonderful lecture by "Patrick Henry" where in getting a personal history filled with amusing anecdotes, I learned Patrick had something like 77 grandchildren before his 60-sum years came to an end.
Now, I am certain you are eager to see how I will tie Patrick Henry to my family as the Center of the Universe. No, I am not related to the gentlemen...although with 77 grandchildren, I am sure there are many ancestors who could step forward.
My granddaughter is also the Center of the Universe ---not just my universe--- but the universe in Williamsburg. We were continually, constantly, endlessly stopped on the streets so that people could comment on her "darlingness," ask her age and coo and fawn over her. Yes, most of these people were my age...already grandparents or wannabees. They were totally entranced. (It was beginning to get on my nerves.) We entered a lovely giftshop to look at holiday garlands and decorations and all three retail sales ladies stopped everything they were doing and talked to my granddaughter AND daughter for at least 15 minutes. Angel (my granddaughter) cooed and smiled and put on a perfect show for them. At two months she has already got this flirting thing down. My daughter got no shopping done.
My husband (who was the frequent babysitter on the benches outside while my daughter and I perused the shops), was always visting with 'a gray haired grande olde dame when we returned with our wares.' He was so amazed at this human phenomenon. If we could bottle it, imagine the drugs we could create.
The climax came today when eating lunch at a nearby Friday's before bidding goodbye to my daughter, a lovely elderly couple (he was the age of 91 and she 88) that sat across from us engaged us in a lengthy conversation once they saw there was a little baby under that blanket. This fascination with a small baby doesn't not seem to diminish with age. He was a jaded journalist who had retired from work at the White House just a year ago...and he still was interested in Angel!
(Pictures to follow...)