Days of Cory #20. I can remember Cory by myself, but it's even better to share it with someone. Here goes:
Woke up the other night struck with the memory of Cory, age six, getting her tongue stuck to a metal railing by the back door of our house in the dead of winter. Who should come to her rescue, but my new husband, who had previously had no dealings with young children whatsoever.
I was not there to see him in action, but I could picture it then, and can picture it now- Cory in distress, making as much noise as one can possibly make with their tongue immobile, and Tim, frustrated and panicked, asking her over and over what on earth would possess her to do such a thing, even as he ran the warm water from inside the house, where she couldn't possibly hear him, let alone respond.
When I asked Tim about it in the morning, he just smiled, "That girl..."
Yep, that girl.
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