She’s a mess!

I knew better than sit next to The Little Princess in the restaurant. I should have made Granddaddy take that seat, but it was one of my weaker moments, and I sidled down right next to her. The first part of the meal was OK until she finally grew tired of sitting in that high chair surrounded by Mommy’s choice of vegetables…those yucky green collards; sweet potatoes that had already been chopped up so fine she could hardly find them to pick them up with her little fingers; corn; okra; butterbeans; a tad of this; and a bit of that consisting of other foods Mommy had decided the Little Princess should try.

She had finished her meal. She transmits those unspoken words by “that look” she’s so famous for, “I'm bored...Wanna play a game, Grandmomma? Let’s check out your reflexes. These are the rules, Grandmomma. You hold out your hand, and I’ll drop my vegetables into it, or not! If you catch them before they hit the floor, you get a point. If I drop them onto the floor before you can catch them, one point for me. Doesn’t that sound like fun, Grandmomma?”

What choice did I have? She’s got the most beautiful little grin, and when she flashes that single little dimple on the left-hand side of her face, I’ll do anything she wants. Those little blue eyes just twinkle when she smiles.

And besides she was becoming quite vocal. People were staring, almost begging us to leave.

So the game began. Hand stretched out ready to receive the offerings of green beans, okra, butterbeans, ham. Dump that hand full of food before I catch you, Grandmomma. Fill again, dump. Fill again, dump. "Hey, you're pretty good at this, Grandmomma, have you been practicing?"

Over and over until Grandmomma got tired. Not good. The screaming and the squirming started again.

She’s a mess that little sweetheart of mine, and so was I after sitting next to her. I think I’ll pick my seat more carefully next time.

Maybe I'll sit at another table.