You’ve already recognized that your Dad and I are fabulously cool.
We know that we’re lucky to have such an intelligent and perceptive child. We love you, too.
The day will come, however, when you think to yourself, “Have my parents always been this tragically unhip?”
The answer to that question, my Dear Gracie, is No, not until you came along.
It’s true. Before you arrived, we were quite the party goers. Of course, we drank only milk or ginger ale, as we hope you always will, but we still went and hung out at all of the fun parties, listening to great music, dancing, and meeting all kinds of people.
We also rooted for some sports teams. We cheered for Penn State at Beaver Stadium and the Bryce Jordan Center (that’s where the football team and the basketball team play, Dear Gracie). We jumped up and down and screamed at referees and coaches until we were hoarse. We did the wave and cheered like raving lunatics. We went to some high school games, too, and we never missed a kick off or the last ten seconds of a game.
We know it’s hard to imagine, Dear Gracie, but fun for us hasn’t always included tapping on the glass of the parakeet display at PetCo and watching Elmo on Sesame Street.
Since you came along, though, our priorities have changed. Our idea of fun changed, too.
We could still make the trek to State College on a moment’s notice and hang out with other tailgaters for the biggest game of the season. Nothing really says we can’t.
But halfway through the first quarter one of us would surely say, “I wish we were at home, sitting on the couch and celebrating the touchdowns with Gracie Anna.” So home we stay, reading books about Mr. Brown, picking up Legos until our fingers are stiff, and rewinding the game to catch the big plays.
It’s fun for us.
You don’t understand now, but some day, you’ll be tragically unhip, too, and then this will all make sense.
Until then, humor us and let us have fun with you.
We love you.
Momma and Daddy
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