My day with Maggie was mostly delightful. We took a walk, played with bubbles, made cookies, and read stories. While I was folding laundry, she put on her “Ariel” dress and happily ran through the house. On each lap around the living room, dining room, and kitchen, she detoured to the bedroom to crash into the bed; thus knocking over the piles of folded clothes. She thought this was hilarious. I was patient longer than I might have been with my own children 35 years ago. However, on the 6th or 10th time around, she dove on the bed and all the piles toppled.
“Maggie, it’s not nice to mess up someone’s work. Please don’t jump up here again. I’m almost finished.”
Lengthy pause. No eye contact.
In her most patient voice, “Grandma, I know it’s hard to understand.”
I had to struggle to keep a straight face on that one!