Lo's Last Game
This time, Georgia came to the game. She hates the cold, too, but not as much as Stella and I do. I mean, she's actually looking into schools up north. I'd choose Valdosta State over Vassar to avoid the snow. In any case, George was much more useful for keeping warm than the dog or the husband. She's bigger than a Chihuahua, and she doesn't feel the need to stand by the fence to shoot brain waves at Lola so she'll hit the ball.
Those blanket-clad ladies kept looking back and staring at us, until finally they took turns exclaiming over my daughter's beauty (which I failed to capture in this photo): "Yes, we're talking about you...you are so gorgeous...great skin...hair...piercing blue eyes...yada-yada-yada..." and Georgia was blushing but really eating it up. Then one of the women says, "I'll bet your mom was a looker, too--when she was your age."
What are people thinking?
(Oh, by the way, Lola's team won, and she got the game ball.)