My 5 and 3-year old were up before everyone else, as usual. They happily bounced about the house with their Christmas presents as I sat playing on my iPad and Grandma made breakfast. My 5-year old received an adorable put-together-yourself-in-a-variety-of-ways mansion for about 10 accompanying small, rubber farm animals. She was having fun arranging the houses and the animals.
Meanwhile, the 3-year old ran around with his big brother’s Captain America, being as loud as possible.
“Grandma, look!” my daughter squealed happily, after completing the first construction. Grandma obligingly went to see her creation.
“I love it!” she said. A few minutes passed and reconfigurations were made to the animal fortresses.
“Grandma, now look!” Again, she went and looked and told her it was beautiful and amazing. This happened a few more times, and each time, Grandma looked and praised with the same enthusiasm.
All this time, the 3-year old had been running back and forth, seemingly unaware of anything else around him.
Then suddenly, “Grandma, LOOK!!!” he yelled. And being the good grandma that she is, she went to her grandson.
“Look, Grandma. I have blood!” And he showed her a tiny speck on his finger, of which he was quite proud.