the busiest bee

After much anticipation, Dad and Ella are finally here for a visit. Ella (my sister, 10) is Cael’s new hero, and watching him follow her around and want to play with everything she touches is a quick trip back through time to when Tim was Cael’s age and I was Ella’s. There were some wonderful moments of play followed by the more memorable long stretches of torture. Lots of “mine mine mine’s” from both parties. I distinctly remember all the grown-ups looking on at our mutual plight in amusement, sipping their wine, knowing looks, and the bursts of laughter, maybe some crumbs of pity thrown out or a stern word. Mostly laughter. You would think, with these memories, that I would have more empathy. But no, I am just as bad as my parents were (and still are, who do you think I am laughing with?), poor Ella.