Yes, I dance about as well as Munchkin’s Barbie Dolls.

 I’m sitting at the dining room table typing on the computer. Munchkin is playing with the new Barbie doll she received from Santa. She picks up a doll she received last Christmas that now has a mustache and rabbit whiskers painted on it. Mustache Barbie and Anorexic Barbie are now violently beating their feet against a glass table.

Munchkin: Look Grandma! They’re dancing!

Granny: (Backing away from the possibility of flying glass). Maybe they want to ride a horse?

Munchkin: I’ll get it!

I follow Munchkin to the toy area. Every doll, horse, and toy with a face has a mustache and rabbit whiskers painted on it. Daddy walks down the stairs.

Munchkin: Daddy! Daddy! Play with me!

Grandmother sneaks away to the computer to check email while Daddy is relegated to Barbie duty. Somewhere along the line, Daddy wanders off. By this time, I’m playing a game of Free Cell on the computer.

Munchkin: I want to do it! I want to do it!

Munchkin and I spend the next hour playing one card game as she vacillates between watching the cards spring back, allowing me to point out where the cards go, giving her instructions on the K, Q, J, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, Ace progression and being entirely too impressed with how fast she is learning to play Free Cell.

Granny: (watching as she continues to try to put a 2 of spades on a 6 of diamonds) Try putting the 2 on this 3.

Munchkin: I KNOW!

Granny: If you know, why is the card you’re trying to move bouncing off the other card? What comes after 2?

Munchkin: One.

Granny: There isn’t a 1 in cards. It’s called an Ace.

Munchkin: I KNOW!

Mother walks in. Munchkin demands candy. Mother says an emphatic, “No.” Munchkin goes to the TV to watch people sing Christmas songs. By this time, I’m doing other things.

Munchkin: (Standing in back of me) I want to watch Disney!

Granny: I’m writing an email. You were watching TV. No fair!

Munchkin: Disney! Disney! Disney! Disney!

I ignore her. She pulls a dining room chair right next to mine, edging closer, closer, until she makes the first move to commandeer my lap.

Granny: My computer! Not your computer!

Munchkin: (Delivering the coup de grâce) Can I sit on your lap?


Do not be deceived by the cuteness. Above is one hell of a strategist!

What am I–5? Look at those moist little eyes, that tiny lip sticking out at me with just the slightest quiver. I pull her onto my lap, minimize the email, bring up the web browser and access Disney on YouTube. What she chooses are ads for Disney shows. She sings along to Disney Christmas songs, laughs at funny scenes and I get up to go to the bathroom. She’s on my seat, leaning her arms on the table, immersed in everything Disney. I have a bats chance in hell of getting my seat back.

I may be the adult, but I guarantee I’m nowhere near as smart as my 6 year old granddaughter.