She walked from the car to the house, up the steps, and down the hall, holding a card in one hand and softly saying the name of Son#4. It was as if she was on a mission, and the constant repeating of the name was a reminder to keep on task. She was almost there, too, when she happened to look out the French doors, and ...
Poor Son#4 was forgotten as The Most Adorable Granddaughter#5 caught sight of her favourite doggy friend.
Ah, well. At least she helped decorate his cake.
Happy Birthday Son#4 and God's blessings on the year ahead.