Our church youth group, which Britton has been a part of this year (albeit somewhat reluctantly), sang at a Nursing Home on Wednesday.
This picture encompasses Britton in a nutshell- in her own world. She’s there, yes. She’s cute, yes. Is she in Britton’s world? Most definitely.
As ‘Uncle Map’ (Uncle Matt) likes to say about his wife- and my sister Sara Britton- “It’s Britton world, I’m just living in it”.
One bitter-sweet thing that Britton said while on our way to the nursery home…
She was asking him why people live there. On the cuff, I told her that they were really old, and that’s where they go before they go to heaven.
B then wanted to know if her Daddy-Boone (my Dad) went to the nursing home before he went to heaven. This, of course, is another topic.. dying young.
Geez- this parent stuff is hard.
This then gave me the idea to switch my explanation approach of the nursing home individuals. I told her that they were lucky enough to get to live a long time, to get to the nursing home.
Last night as we cuddled, she got emotional (the ‘drunk cry’ I call it- when she is really tired) and said, “Mommy I don’t want you to get old and live in da nursing home”.
Light bulb. “No problem Britton, just marry a man that will let me move in with you when I am old, so YOU can take care of me”.
On that note, I must return to my laundering of my bed sheets. B crawled into bed early this morning and wet my un-waterproofed expensive pillow top mattress. Nah, soaked is more like it.