The last time my mom came to DC, about six weeks ago, a group of us went to the Kennedy Center to see the wonderful Broadway musical, Memphis. With us was my nanny’s 11-yr-old son, Habdel. It looked like the show might have been sold out, but two seats at the end of our row were empty, and continued to be empty as the seats around us filled and the show was about to start. My mom bet Habdel that the two seats would soon be taken. They had been bantering for a while now and cracking me up. “How much should we bet?” she asked. “Twenty bucks.” Twenty bucks??” she cried out. “Nevermind. A dollar.” He countered with “ten” and they settled on four dollars and the terms of the bet. When the seats didn’t fill by halftime, she slipped him the money. He promptly bragged to his mom. “You give that back to Mrs. Stolls!” Justine (my nanny/friend) said with the same sly twinkle in her eyes like my mom used to get, for Justine and my mom often shared inside jokes. My mom wagged her finger at Justine. “You stay out of this,” she said. “This is between me and Habdel.” Justine told me later that one of the little girls who joined us was surprised that my mom was such a “cool lady.” I love this story because it illustrates one of the things I loved best about her – her playfulness, especially with kids. I was very shy as a little girl. As a teenager I used to get embarrassed (as teenagers often do) when my mom chit-chatted with strangers. Like, in an elevator or waiting on line somewhere. But I watched her. I watched how people reacted to her friendliness, her humor. Somewhere along the line I came out of my shell and turned gregarious, and I have her to thank. I feel so grateful that the last memory I have of being with her is such a happy one.