Lucia loves, loves, loves the monkey her Paw Paw and Gamma sent her.   Abel the Space Monkey.  Here, her Mommy is putting lotion on Lucia ~ she holds out Abel ~ “Mommy, lotion on Abel!” she orders.

But this video really shows their developing relationship.

{That’s the toy box I brought her.}

I’m not sure what my favorite part of this is ~ when she blows on Abel’s belly, or when she puts the shoe carefully next to him.  I think she’s using it to keep him from rolling off the box, but I’m not sure about that.  Anyhow, she loves Abel, and he goes everywhere with us.

He goes to Super Che with us.

We have a small adventure at Super Che.  We get to the grocery, which is the one Kroger-Meiers type store in Puerto – and we can’t find a parking place.  As we circle the small lot for a second time, Julia notices a sign.  “Conan!” she says.  “Back there!  It’s a parking place reserved for pregnant women!”

“Really?”  Conan is a bit skeptical, but we head back.  Sure enough, right next to the handicapped space, there’s the sign.

How cool is that?  Unfortunately, before we can pull in, some van ~ with out a pregnant passenger ~ pulls into it.  We pause, dismayed.  Julia says, “I’m going to make un escándalo.”  I’m pretty sure I know what that means, and sure enough, she sticks her head out the window and begins to scold them for taking a parking place for pregnant women when she’s pregnant and needs that space.

Much to my delight, they slowly back out of the space and cede it to us.

Ok, not a great picture, but you get the point.

Lucia and Abel head into the grocery.

She has to attach Abel around her neck so he can ride on the back of the cart with her.

Shopping accomplished, we head on to our next stop.

I ‘m not sure what she’s looking so appalled about.  

But it seems to me that being the mother of a space monkey like Abel is a big responsibility, and one that she takes pretty seriously.  Also remember that she’s clutching this monkey to her when it’s at least 89 degrees…

Of course, Lucia’s life is not all about being a mother.  Sometimes, she works.   Here, she’s selling pizzas and enchiladas.

I’m not sure what she’s selling here, but the box {which she loved} used to have bourbon balls in it.

And sometimes, at the end of the day, she’s not the mommy of Abel the space monkey, or a working mother, but a little girl who wants to be held. Fortunately, there are plenty of us willing to do that.

We go out for dinner.  As we’re finishing the meal, a young man with a recorder appears.  He begins to play.

My granddaughter is mesmerized.

Her mother and I are amused.

I take a video of him, and of her watching him.

But when he comes over to talk to her, she’s in seventh heaven.

Now, almost a week later, she still watches those videos on my phone a zillion times, often with almost the same intent interest as the first time.  She prefers the first one, the one of him playing, which she calls “jumping video.”  She likes it almost as much as listening to “My Girl {aka Where Did You Sleep Last Night.}

And I’m glad he’s not really the Pied Piper and she can’t get out of her highchair to follow him!