Whilst at the fair today, as we were regrouping after lunch, the lass bade me “Father, wouldst thou carry these heavy bags for our fair Mother, who is weary worn from a long morning of drudgery in the fields?”
To which I replied, “Go soak your head.”
Actually, it didn’t quite happen like that. It was more like, the lass ordered that I carry the bag for the Wife. Never minding the fact that I had been carrying the lass’ bag all morning because “it was too heavy” for her. Regardless, I was more amused at her audacity and asked who “had put her in charge?”
She hates when I challenge her like that and didn’t reply. Instead, she started doing this body-checking thing. I asked her a couple of more times (good naturedly, I’ll add) and also threw in a “I’m pretty sure it wasn’t me” for good measure.
Finally, the Wife picked up one bag, I grabbed the other and I looked at my brother and made the comment “I can’t show her a soft underbelly ever, or it’ll be game over from then on. It’s going to be challenge enough when she hits the teens.”
He chuckled a little. I did too. But only a little.