Not Her Phone

We have a counter in our kitchen that holds our coffee pot, mail, and various “stuff” that comes in each day.  With the evolution of technology, this counter has evolved to the “charging counter”.  On a typical morning, Grace will grace us with her presence and a sleepy ‘hi’ or ‘morning’ and head straight to the charging counter, pick up her phone and check the gazillion messages and snap chats and what nots that came in while she was sleeping.

This past weekend, my Mom and Dad and sister were down for the weekend.  The weekend was filled with a show, projects, shopping and, of course, dining out.  The weekend was filled with loads of laughter that bridged the generations.

On Sunday morning, the early risers were hanging in the kitchen.  My Dad was standing against the “charging counter”, my Mom and sister and I were sitting around the table.  It was just after 8:00 and I scooted out of the chit chat to wake Grace up for practice.  I returned to my table spot and hopped right back into the chit chat.

A few minutes later, I could hear the sound of feet on the stairs.  Sleepy Grace appeared in the kitchen.  I watched as she made her way to the “charging counter”.  I watched as my Dad inched himself out of her way saying “Ohhh, excuse me…Good Morning Grace”.  I expected to see Grace reach behind her Grampa for her phone.  Instead, I watched and saw Grace step back,  and say “Whoa, where you going?”  I watched their eyes meet.

My Dad moved back towards Grace. Grace moved right in for a hug from her Grampa, not her phone.

8 thoughts on “Not Her Phone”

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