In the beginning there was a pretty little girl. She had dark hair and bright blue eyes. It was me. It may sound egotistic but I was a pretty little girl.
The little girl had a loud boisterous family. She loved her parents and they loved her back. She had a good life. It was perhaps a better life than most.
She grew up and married. She and her husband had 4 wonderful children. They were healthy and loved. It goes without saying they are also pretty.
The children grew up. As is the way of things each child moved on.
The oldest son decided early that he did not want a wife and children. It was too much work.
The second child was busy with his own life. He eventually became the father of two biological children and 4 step-children. The step-children are all grown and most have families of their own. The biological children are nearing the time they will be ready to strike out on their own.
I will skip to the youngest of the four. The only girl of the four also declared she wanted no children. She is the proud mother of 2. They are both in college.
The youngest son was in a huge hurry to be an adult. He married young and had two children right away. Both are now grown and married.
That leads me to great-grandchildren. Both of my son's children have children. My grandson has 2. My granddaughter has 4. That is right. I am a great-grandma to 6 pretty children.
The newest addition is a little boy. He is named after his great-grandfather.10 pounds, 6 ounces. Great-grandpa would be so proud.
I love it when the family grows. And it all started with a pretty little girl.