Writ & Whimsy

Everybody was winding down from the aftermath of Christmas Eve when it happened. Pleasantly stuffed, the adults were sifting through the scattered wrapping paper for the gifts that needed to be gathered and put away, when something caught the corner of Grampa’s eye.

My three year old daughter was standing on the bottom rung of the step stool in the kitchen, looking across into the living room. Her bright blue eyes locked with Grampa’s as she slowly lifted herself up to the top rung, her back to the counter where the leftover Christmas cookies sat unguarded.

Without breaking eye contact, she began to slowly reach her hand around behind her back. That was the moment it dawned on him that this was a premeditated undertaking.

Grampa started to take a step in her direction; instantly her little hand shot back, snatched a cookie, and shoved it whole into her mouth. In posession of the coveted spoils, she gobbled triumphantly. There was nothing left to do but throw up his hands and have a good hearty laugh.