Yesterday we were getting ready to go to Sam's T-ball practice. Sam and Grace were all ready to go and waiting by the door, and Rob and I were finishing up some things and almost ready. Now, you have to know that Sam and Grace will turn almost anything into a competition, and one of our regulars is who will get to open the door and leave the apartment first. So while they were waiting for us, they were jostling each other at the door. Sam decided to take charge. He backed up about 5 feet from the door. Here is their conversation:
Sam: Let's have a race to see who gets to the door first. Come and stand next to me.
Grace: No
Sam: YES Grace, come and stand next to me.
Grace: You mean in front of you?
Sam: NO Grace, come and stand right here pointing emphatically to the spot right next to him
Grace: You mean.... behind you?
Sam: repeat of his last comment...increasingly frustrated
Grace: You mean....right in front of you?
Sam: No Grace we're having a race! Come and stand next to me!
She strung him along for a bit longer before I intervened. The race, obviously, never happened. And I can't remember who actually made it out of the door first. Not that it matters. What does matter is that I'm getting more and more worried for my poor, literal, gullible son!
3 comments:
You have the greatest stories. Grace is one smart cookie. I don't envy you for teenage years. However, I think she will have all the boys wrapped around her finger. Yes, there is a need to worry because she is so dang cute.
We seem to have those races here too. Or just fights over who is going to be the leader out to the car. WE have to make sure everyone gets a turn.
I love these stories!
Post a Comment