Monday, May 30, 2016
And so we play Skee Ball. We go in and out of the booths. We watch the adult jumpers in the stands and the Shetland pony races by the fence. We walk in and out of the stables, past the girls with lemon sticks. We sit with cookies. We talk.
My father, wearing a pin, is thanked for his service.
I thank him—and all those who serve—as well.