When I go to California, sometimes I fly into the Sacramento Airport and start the round of visits with my mother or my pal Kate. But, I used to always fly in and out of the Oakland Airport, and Maya, Ted, and Julie would pick me up and take me back. Year after year this happened, until the year that they were taking Julie's half-sister Melissa to the airport and Maya announced, "This is Juneau, Alaska. My Granny lives here."
The next summer, Maya and Julie came to Juneau, and soon after that they flew other places as well, so that the sweetie's mind was disabused of that rather charming idea.
When Maya was six, I was visiting California, and we were in the grocery store. Julie had gone one way, Maya and I were going another. The aisle we were going down had a pillar to one side, so that all traffic had to go the other way around it. As we came down the aisle, there were two women standing in that narrow point, talking. Maya slipped her small body through the tiny opening between the pillar and the shelf and waved for me to follow her. "Maya," I said, "never in a million years will I be able to squeeze through there." To which Maya answered, "Granny, in a million years you'll be dead."
When I go to California, sometimes I fly into the Sacramento Airport and start the round of visits with my mother or my pal Kate. But, I used to always fly in and out of the Oakland Airport, and Maya, Ted, and Julie would pick me up and take me back. Year after year this happened, until the year that they were taking Julie's half-sister Melissa to the airport and Maya announced, "This is Juneau, Alaska. My Granny lives here."
The next summer, Maya and Julie came to Juneau, and soon after that they flew other places as well, so that the sweetie's mind was disabused of that rather charming idea.
When Maya was six, I was visiting California, and we were in the grocery store. Julie had gone one way, Maya and I were going another. The aisle we were going down had a pillar to one side, so that all traffic had to go the other way around it. As we came down the aisle, there were two women standing in that narrow point, talking. Maya slipped her small body through the tiny opening between the pillar and the shelf and waved for me to follow her. "Maya," I said, "never in a million years will I be able to squeeze through there." To which Maya answered, "Granny, in a million years you'll be dead."
5 comments:
I love this. Such a smart and practical girl. What a hoot.
Now THAT was funny!
I like Maya's timeline J.
Thank god I'm going to pick her up in a few hours...I'm laughing at these, but they make me miss her more. :)
I had forgotten she thought you lived at the airport. I wonder why she thought we didn't go get you more often? Maybe her little 2 or 3 year old brain didn't go that far, since we came to Juneau when she was 3 1/2.
Kids have such a great perspective!
And, I should add, I always enjoy your thought-provoking posts but don't comment because I'd have to keep repeating myself by saying, I agree, I agree, I agree!
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