Dinner bubbled on the stove and we sat around the table drinking wine and laughing with our friends. C was snug in her bed, fast asleep, and Little L was spending quality time with anyone who would hold her.
“Hey! She’s the same size as the bread!” someone commented and I had to laugh remembering a night 27 years ago when the same comment about my baby sister resulted in a picture that I’ve never forgotten; a tiny baby lying on a huge loaf of rustic French country bread.
“We have to take a picture!” I said as I ran to get the camera. We placed the huge loaf of bread in the perplexed infant’s arms and I snapped the shot. She looked to the person holding her to see if she should be worried, and her little fingers dug into the hard crust. The picture doesn’t say whether or not she decided to cry, but knowing Little L she probably protested soon after the shot was taken.
I had a small version of that picture printed up and I carry it in my wallet. As she grows and becomes a solid chunky kid it’s easy to forget just how tiny she was at first. I don’t always have access to a newborn to compare her to, but a quick trip to the Safeway bread basket is enough to show me just how much she’s grown. You know, in case her giggles and actions aren’t proof enough.