I Spy With My Little Eye

The face that swindled a thousand Meemaws . . .

My mom has gone back from whence she came. My daughter apparently thinks that Oklahoma is conveniently located at the local airport where we left her Meemaw on Tuesday afternoon. I guess that would make life easier - rather than all this jetting around, we could just visit my mom on Concourse B from time to time. We could enjoy a four-dollar pretzel from the food court and catch up.

We did quite a bit of shopping while my mom was here. She's a shoppin' fool, I tell you. We dragged the kid around from store to store, while the little lass did her best to get abducted by making sure she was always around some corner where we could not see her.

On one such shopping excursion, A decided to play "I Spy" in the car. Here's a warning for you if you get sucked into a game with her. The thing she spied with her little eye is usually some object you passed eight miles ago. So, good luck with that. She's wanted to play every day since then, and I'm hoping the trend passes soon. She did get in one zinger at dinner last night, though. She said to her dad, "I spy with my little eye . . . something grey!" It was his hair. He maintains that his hair is brown, but then again he has been legally blind in one eye since his Marine Corps days.

While my daughter does not particularly enjoy shopping, she does seem to view it as a prime opportunity to work on her negotiating skills. And when Meemaw's around, she's got a really good shot at getting whatever piece o'crap she is asking for. We were checking out at one store when my daughter found the candy display by the register - right at her height. She pointed at a clear plastic cell phone full of candy and looked at me pleadingly. "Nope," I told her. "Good try, though." She had plenty of treats at home and plus, she may as well learn now that, like the song says, you can't always get what you want.

I proceeded to pay for my items (which, I should add, included a pair of summer shoes for her). A moment later, my mom came up behind me in the line so that she could check out as well. And what, pray tell, did she have in her hand? A plastic cell phone with candy in it. My daughter skipped around gleefully, victoriously. During her brief five-day trip, my mom also bought her some glow-in-the-dark bracelets, those plastic capsules that expand into small sponges (two sets of those, in fact), an art kit, an Ariel doll, and a plastic birthday cake with candles. And those are just the things I know about.

I spy with my little eye . . . a sucker.