Last Sunday Samantha sends me a text while she is over at a friend's house: "I am sending you a link. I have money. I MUST have this."
Her friend had a ukelele. They were painting stencils on the back of it. By the time I picked her up, she was plucking Jason Mraz's "I'm Yours" for me.
She'd tried her hand with the guitar, but her hands are tiny. They are literally the size of a five year old's. It's the most frustrating part of her RSS to her. When that tiny hands Burger King commercial came out, everyone at school mentioned it to her.
So now, she has a Sammi-sized instrument to play. She still plays the piano daily and somehow can get almost an octave stretch with her left hand if she really works at it, but it's time for a new challenge.
Every day this week she's been going to the mailbox and every day I would say, "It's not going to be here until Friday."
Sure enough, this afternoon we heard the UPS truck's signature sound.
After getting it tuned (well, sort of...) her friends were at the door, and then it was time to get to the movies, and so, after all that waiting and wanting, it sits quietly on the table, waiting for her to get back.
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