silly socks

These are her socks.  She doesn't leave on socks for more than a minute--then they go flying to wherever.    Even -15 F, no socks.

Christmas Eve she wouldn't put her socks back on to come up from the playroom to the church service, marched up all the stairs and over the icy tile in her bare feet.   Very dignified, elderly people asked her weren't her little feet cold?   She said no.

Anyway, all over the house is a trail of her socks.  I find them in toy bins, couch cushions, the coffee table, the stairway.

I tease her about this, and have also showed her cousin, b.g. about this when he's been here, "Look, more of p.j.'s dirty socks.   Buddy they are EVERYWHERE in my house."   He looks at me, not sure what to say.

Well yesterday morning when I was getting dressed, she was in my bed, on Jay's pillow and she chirped, "Grandma, wook-it me!  Dirty socks! In your bed!"   She was waving her little socks over her head.

Oh my goodness.  I guess I knew it would happen eventually, but the kid is TEASING ME BACK.

How is that possible?

Earlier in the morning when we were both in bed, her having me unwrap gold foil off little chocolate candy coins during Curious George, she told me she was going to visit Grandma Stacy, her dad's mother.

I asked her, "Are you going eat chocolate in her bed too?"

"Yes."

The child knows how to live.     Plus it's at -11 degrees now, supposed to over zero for good tomorrow.

We'll take it.  In January, we take what we can get.  Onward.   love, Val, aka GRANDMA