H is about the sweetest man you could meet. he is in choir, sings bass and is a heckuva barbershop singer. he loves music and adventures and birthdays and hugs and butterfinger bars and the letter H. and we love him.
i was talking about a piece we were going to sing a particular sunday. i told the infamous back row they would need to eat their wheaties that day; there were some tough notes in this piece. H looked up, and with that glimmer in his eye, said, “i eat lucky charms!”
what???!!! this is a grown man – 93 years grown – and you would think that his breakfast would be practical and of great nutritional value. but nope! lucky charms it is. he added, “when my grandchildren come over, they eat all the marshmallows!” clearly not a disappointment but, instead, the greatest biggest joy. see? the sweetest.
i’m thinking that it would be a smart thing to eat lucky charms if it means i am going to live 93 years and have a glimmer in my eye. and they’re gluten free!