![\"passie\"](\"http:\/\/farm1.static.flickr.com\/189\/517302090_04e7267343.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\nToday Phil and I drove in to Saltillo together and he fired up both of my parents’ grills and cooked up an enormous spread of burgers and sausages and chicken and hot dogs for our families. It was a rare treat — getting both families (though incomplete) together for dinner, and having Phil get down in his element to cook for everyone. We sat out on the patio and took turns chasing Rylee down when she’d take off running downhill on the paved driveway. We winced at each step she took, sure it was only a matter of time before she took a tumble and came up with a skinned knee and a mouth screeching embarrassed protests. <\/p>\n
But she didn’t fall. In fact, she spent most of her time terrorizing the cats<\/a> and calling me “momma” and Patrick “Bubba,” which, I think, tickled and embarrassed him all at once. She wanted to hold his hand and she had a ball dancing on the flatbed trailer when he picked her up and put her on it. <\/p>\n The last time I saw her was months ago. She was mumbling words then. Now she’s got whole sentences coming out of her mouth. The time, it flies.<\/p>\n