Out of the mouths of babes

Went to my nephew's fifth birthday party today. I gave him a yellow, Nerf-style soccer ball. We were out together one day and he told me he wanted to learn to play and be on a team. I noted with some satisfaction that it was one of the only presents he got with which he could reasonably be expected to play.

His gramma gave him a snow globe with some penguins in it, and he also got some stickers and books and things. You know I'm all for giving children books-especially Roald Dahl's Charlie & the Chocolate Factory, which his father gave and is going to read to him.

But he's going to play with my present. This is what Uncles are for.

Besides my nephew, the other kids there were a slightly older boy, a slightly younger girl, and one girl who was, as she told me, "almost seven." She was a sweet but tough little girl. Her jeans were festooned with pink embrodiery, but when the boys started roughhousing she was right in the middle of it and giving as good as she got.

One of the boys (not my nephew, I am kinda proud to say) decided that the way for him to gain the advantage was to take off his shoes and drop-not to say throw-them on her. Her response?

"Don't make me get my high heels."

I like this kid.