Basil’s march through the file cabinet continues, unearthing all manner of things we’ve squirreled away.
Some of them — like the receipt for the long-dead vacuum — make us shake our heads. Others elicit smiles (and make me question the logic of Basil’s filing system).
Take this, from when Catherine was 6, or so we think.
Although Basil preserved it in a plastic sleeve, no one bothered to date the back. We took it to our expert, who confirmed she was probably in first grade when she created this love letter to us.
That means she looked like this.
These days she’s not keen to hold our hands, or frankly be seen with us unless we’re delivering money, food or the car keys.
It’s OK, though. We know those little hands remain with us still.