All I heard from the living room was giggles and shouts of glee. Suddenly quiet. She appeared in the kitchen, a huge yellow bounce ball in her hands, an evil glint in those blue eyes.
“Time to play bounce and catch, Grans.” She launched said ball right at me, gale force, and it bounced off my head.
“New rules, little girl. No bopping Grans in her head. ‘kay.?”
“Okay.” As if I’m a spoil sport. “Let’s play roll the ball’.
There we were slamming the ball back and forth, laughing our heads off as she makes up new counting rule every time one of misses. Is it any wonder that I stagger out to my car when daughter returns.
There’s an old song, “The old gray mare, she ain’t what she used to be many long years ago.” Hmm. How apropo for little Granny.