1 Mother 2 Another

I mentioned recently that Cora’s
been “babysitting” Paige, and 18-month-old friend of
ours. Cora takes it quite seriously, and whenever she sees Paige
she goes into work mode, feeding Paige raisins from her stroller
tray one by one, or adjusting the sun bonnet over her face, or
whatever she can find to do.


We were out for dinner for a school spirit night at a local
fast-food place last night, and the kids all went to play in the
play area. There’s a little square “room” off all
the tubing and such that’s only about a foot off the ground,
and it’s got a steering wheel in there and a lookout spot.
Cora went in there with Paige, and was talking to her, watching
her, and having a great time being the bossy older person.

A few minutes later, Cora came out to me,
sitting at a table on the other side of the glass. I saw Paige
stand up and look out the exit hole, trying to figure out how to
get down on her own. I turned to Cora and said, “Cora, can
you go help Paige out of the play area? She’s having a hard
time figuring out how to get down.”


Cora nodded, turned, and marched confidently into the room. Paige
saw Cora and smiled, holding out her hands. Cora took Paige’s
hands – Paige still standing up in the opening, and with one
graceful motion, pulled HARD on Paige’s arms, yanking the
poor child clean out of the door and into a quite painful header on
the floor. Then Cora turned to me, Paige screaming beside her and
all the mommies running in, with a smile as if to say, “See?
I got her out!”


Yeah, maybe she’s not quite ready for solo babysitting
yet.