Our favorite/only nephew and niece (Santa’s elves) are spending Christmas break with us. We love them, our kids love them, and we love having them here. Our house overflows literally and figuratively when they are here.
Ten-year-old Taylor is quickly growing into a young woman. Like me, and like her great-grandmother Peg, she is full of sass and vinegar and witty comments and spunk… and… and… opinions.
So far today we have discerned she doesn’t like bib snow pants, shrimp and seafood, eggnog, egg salad, store brand crayons, fudge, footy pajamas, raspberries, green apples, shepherd’s pie, tomato soup, race horse owners who overwork their horses, finger steaks, the cartoon Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood, and many other things I can’t recall on the spot.
Her most recent proclamation really tickled my funny bone, though. She had tried on a little crown she found in our toy box and I told she looked just like Princess Kate.
“Yuck!” she said. “I don’t like Princess Kate.”
Aghast, I replied, “Who doesn’t like Princess Kate?”
Taylor narrowed her eyes in suspicion and said, “I’m pretty sure she stole one of her grandmother’s rings.”
Good thing neither of my own girls are 10 years old yet, which means I am still an expert on raising 10-year-old girls.
But I have to admit… sometimes she totally stumps me.
© Tami Blake