I have bread dough rising. I’m wearing a cute outfit and feeling young and healthy. My daughter Sarah is in her own little world on the floor and I hear her say to herself as she busily works at taking a fancy dress off her doll, “I’m going to teach Bitty Baby to do a CARTWHEEL.” I get the camera because she’s cute and she holds up her babies and sings, “Hi Grandma!!!!!!”
It takes me a second and then I realize.
She just called me Grandma.
I’m also annoyed because my dough has an hour to rise and my husband just told me I have to ride along all the way to the airport so he can pick up a big van from the rental place and drive it home. (I say annoyed but we are laughing about it. I’m whining, “I want to stay home!!!!” and he’s not listening to me and saying, “Too bad!!”)