Wait - is that an oxymoron?
Yeah, "new tradition" contradicts itself.
Anyway, back to the point.
When I do the BIG WEEKLY grocery shop, Curt goes with me. Not Dad, not Luke. Just me and Curt.
Sometimes he reads the list. Sometimes he pulls the items from the shelf. Sometimes he pushes the cart (and the back of my heels have no skin to show for it).
But he always talks.
Sometimes I actually MISS the days when he couldn't talk....
(No, not really, thank you, Lord God, we are blessed)
But I CERTAINLY try to remember that there *might* (the thought makes me ill) come a day when he doesn't WANT to talk to me. (*sniff*)
So I appreciate every minute.
They grow up so fast.
And he traded in his trusty Superman lunch kit for a plain black and gray one.
As long as he still talks.