Just got back from Virginia Beach. Aaron kept us laughing all week. He was racing around the apartment with my crutches, trying all kinds of stunts. He almost went right through the patio door! Oops, was it okay to laugh at that?
Saturday night he took my wheelchair down to the plaza, put on what he calls 'birth control' glasses, rolled up his pants, put on one of Mark's big Hawaiian shirts and black dress shoes with no socks, and off he went. He pretended he was falling down the steps in the wheelchair, and ended up on the bottom with the wheel chair on top of him. We laughed until we cried. Good times.
