Every year there is some mysterious rogue human being sitting at my grandmother’s Thanksgiving dinner, and every year I side-eye them, trying to figure out if I’m related, until our inevitable introduction that confirms that I am not.
Today I saw a 3 year old in a pretty dress sitting by herself in the living room. I stopped in my tracks and stared at her. Who is this child? Is this my cousin’s baby? Well, no, Caragh, that is not your cousin’s baby because your cousin’s baby was born two days ago and this child is walking. Do babies walk now? Do they do that? No. How long can I stare at her before we both get weird about it? I wish I was a toddler so I can steal that dress.
