Mine, Mine, Mine
Shortly after my granddaughter Annabelle was born, my son Brock took her with him to pick up his wife Amy’s wedding ring from the jewelers. Amy had begun reacting to the metal in her ring, and the jeweler was putting a coating on it to see if that would help. The jeweler looked at the baby carrier Brock had with him and commented that sometimes when women are pregnant they develop sensitivities they didn’t have before. When Brock got home, he told Amy what the jeweler had said. Amy looked at Brock in disbelief and said, “You do know I didn’t give birth to Annabelle, don’t you?” You see, Annabelle was adopted.