My youngest loves to look over the countless things that decorate the front and side of that refridgerator.
“Who’s that baby?” She ask, pointing to a cherubic face peering out at her from an aged birth announcement.
I look over. It’s the photo of a good friend’s baby boy, sent when they still lived in California… three years ago. That little boy is now a big brother and has a lot more hair and much less baby chub and yet I can’t bring myself to toss the birth announcement. That’s what he looked like when I knew held and cuddled him, I don’t know the big boy version.
His is not the only infant face that graces our fridge door. Birth announcements sent from far and near jostle for space among school papers and drawings. I like seeing them there, I like smiling at their cute faces when I search for dinner ingredients. It keeps these babies that I see all too rarely nearby.
Email or Facebook birth announcements just don’t quite leave the same lasting impressions.
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