A nearly-three-year-old can be such fun – especially when
she’s your granddaughter. Seaton Park yesterday was a summer’s day: alive with
locals who appreciated the warmth and sunshine. Strangers laughed and chatted
with each other, relaxed by the warmth of the sun.
So Gramma was up and down on the climbing frames, playing
make-believe games of visiting one another with gifts which looked like the
bark on the ground but in our minds were perhaps bacon and eggs, sweet cakes,
or even wine! Meanwhile Mama monitored 9-month-old Gregor, who is determined to
keep up with his big Sis while tasting the rich curiosities on the ground.
Neither child is risk-averse, so as Flick swung herself out
over the steps which stand four or five feet off the ground, Joey instructed
her (I think) in Viet to hold on with both hands and go down facing the ladder.
Briefly Flick complied, and then I noticed a flash of rebellion as she glanced
towards Joey and turned the opposite way, holding on with one hand and nearly
coming a cropper. Oh, how fun to be the Gramma, not the Mama!
Paul talks about people who look in a mirror and immediately
forget what they see...sometimes I read the Bible and acquiesce to its teaching
but then go away and immediately do the opposite. Not a good trait, and I was
reminded yesterday in the gentlest way that it starts young. And even after a
lifetime, that streak of independence is a stubborn root.
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