Love Wrote The Letter
July 31st 2007 22:26
We were five months away from our wedding when I met my now-husband’s three sons, Tobey, Skylar, and Brandon. The October breeze whirled leaves around them like a cyclone as they stepped out of the car. I welcomed them in our home, telling each one of them how many stories their dad had told me about them.
Like bouncing puppies, my three children greeted them excitedly and quickly gave them a tour of the house. Bonding was immediate due to the closeness of the ages. My oldest son, David, was 11. Tobey was 10. Skylar was 9. Brandon and my daughter, Morgan, were 8. Noah, my youngest, was 5. Thicker than thieves, they ran through the house playing everything from spies to superheroes. Hunter, my husband, was thrilled. His boys had “taken to me,” and my kids “had taken” to them. Nothing made him happier
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Like bouncing puppies, my three children greeted them excitedly and quickly gave them a tour of the house. Bonding was immediate due to the closeness of the ages. My oldest son, David, was 11. Tobey was 10. Skylar was 9. Brandon and my daughter, Morgan, were 8. Noah, my youngest, was 5. Thicker than thieves, they ran through the house playing everything from spies to superheroes. Hunter, my husband, was thrilled. His boys had “taken to me,” and my kids “had taken” to them. Nothing made him happier
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