Ashley Lauren roared up the stairs like a miniature tornado, dashed into the bathroom, and peeled off her pink Winnie the Pooh™ sweater and matching tights. She wiggled into her favorite ensemble: a tattered #9 football jersey that belonged to her dad and inside-out socks, one pink, one white.
"Whew," she exclaimed, "that's much better, Nana. Let's plug in Dirty Dancing. Where is Hubear?"
"Slow down, Ashley. Hubert's at work. Did Steve let you eat chocolate at the movies?"
"Better believe it. We had us a fine ol' time."
I would not have agreed to watch her this afternoon if Steve had fessed up about the chocolate. He knows how sugar affects her. They probably talked out loud during the best parts of the movie. When those two are together, they are completely oblivious to their surroundings. They just have a fine ol' time but don't intentionally annoy the movie- watchers. Look at her socks--she turns them inside out because the seams hurt her feet. It wouldn't do any good to tell her they don't match. She would just mimic her daddy's standard line, "I've got another pair like these in my drawer."
"Ash, when you've finished watching Dirty Dancing, we'll take a walk."
On Ashley's chocolate days, her very wise Nana encourages walking, running, swinging, hopping, jumping, and hollering. Her wise Nana also knows that the inside of an upstairs apartment is not the proper place to walk, run, swing, jump or holler. However, there is a beautiful park complete with Ashley-sized swings located about halfway between my apartment complex and Pinetree Village where my daughter Jackie lives. Provided she cooperated and put on real clothes without wearing her Nana plumb to a frazzle, I figured we could stop by and eat dinner with Jackie.
When Patrick Swayze got Baby out of the corner like he always does and the final dance was done, she started jumping and hollering, "Why do I have to put on real clothes?"
After twenty minutes, I resorted to the parent phrase, "Because I said so. That's why."
She dressed in real clothes. Outside, her energy level accelerated. She skipped a few paces ahead of me, singing about somebunny named Foo-Foo. Suddenly, she stopped, turned around, and tucked her tiny hand in mine. "Nana, if you were a cloud, what would you be?"
"Oh, I think I'd be that soft bunny rabbit. See him? He's hopping around above the telephone pole. What would you be?"
"I do see him, Nana, I really do. I'd be...let me think. I'd be a fluffy, white chicken and I'd wear yeller bow ribbons on all my feet.
"Nana, where does my shadow go when I can't see it? Does it mean I'm indivisible when I can't see my shadow?"
"No, Masher, you are not invisible. While you are a little girl, Nana's shadow blends into yours, to protect you. When you are a big girl, we will walk side by side. Do you want to stop by Aunt Jackie's for a rest in the delicious bed before we go home?"
"I'll take a little toes up, but I'm definitely not going to sleep."
The hands on my watch were close to eating ordeal time; Ashley's eating preferences changed with the Texas weather. She would swear she loves macaroni and ten minutes later, double swear macaroni has never touched her lips. Fast food chicken nuggets composed her major food group. Vegetables, except corn, were taboo. For breakfast, she would eat the whites of eggs and the insides of biscuits. Fruit, with the exception of apples, was relegated to the 'yuck' category. Things with chocolate piled on top were her idea of a balanced meal. She refused to eat anything unless it was mashed into an unrecognizable pulp. As a toddler, she would whine and whine until Steve mashed and mashed.
Once, Steve called to seek my advice because he was concerned that his tiny bundle of dynamite had the upper hand. "Mom she refuses to eat unless I mash her food. What should I do?"
I laughed and said, "Mash it."
We nicknamed her Masher.
She flashed her famous I-can-push-your-button smile. "Nana, I love you 'round the world and back."
She knows it's dinnertime. Nothing like taking lessons from the master. When Steve was a little boy, he could charm the brown off rice. Sure hope Jackie is home, I could use her help.
"I love you more, Masher."
Thank goodness and etceteras...Jackie answered the door.
"Aunt Jackie, Nana said I have to take a little toes up. Can China Baby Boy come with me?"
Ashley also knew the Jackie buttons. Jackie would have let Ash drive her new Acura™. She simply said, "Play gentle with China Baby Boy."
While I started dinner, Jackie tucked the Masher and China Baby Boy into the delicious bed. A few minutes later, Ashley peeked her head around the corner and slyly announced, "China Baby Boy isn't sleepy."
It would soon appear that China Baby Boy wasn't hungry either.
"Oh well, Jackie. I'll try to get her to eat an apple before Steve picks her up."
When we got home, Ashley went in the front bedroom to play. My mom antenna knew the sudden silence spelled suspicion. I arrived at the crime scene the exact moment her hair caught on fire. After I extinguished the flames, Ashley solemnly handed me the candle she had lit without permission and whimpered, "Nana, are you going to spank me?"
"Masher, I'm just plain no good in the spanking department. Let's go in the living room and have a little chat."
We talked about the dangers of fire and lessons we have to learn.
"Nana, will you tell me a story?"
"I'll grab a quilt and we can cuddle up on the couch. What do you want to hear?"
"Tell me about when you were two years old and you very first went to live with Auntie Oh and My-Ben. You know, the one that begins 'When I was a little girl...'"