Beech Tree News Network

I spent the morning gathering Elsa dolls ( from Disney’s Frozen), and they were many and far between.  There were two in the bathtub, one in my BBC room, three in the living room and one in the toy room.  After I had them all, I locked the dolls in Garey’s gun safe.  Let me explain.

My granddaughter, Sabria, is a wonderful, vibrant little girl.  She is also a five-year-old, and as such, she sometimes has meltdowns in public places, mostly in the company of my daughter, her mom, Natalie.  Her behavior has caused Natalie much grief and more than a little embarrassment.  Natalie does discipline Sabria—recently cancelling a trip to Chucky Cheese after Sabria decided she was leaving dance class early and could not be reasoned with.

If you were to happen upon Sabria during one of her legendary tirades, you would swear the child had been raised by wolves.  She wasn’t, however.  She was raised right here on Woodbury Loop, where she has gone toe-to-toe with her Papa and me, and has always lost those contests—we’ve made sure of it.

On Friday, Natalie brought Sabria by our work on the way to a dance performance.  When I walked into the office, Sabria was sitting in a chair, wearing her white turtleneck, black pants and black dance shoes.  Her hair was pulled back into a neat little bun, and her hands were folded in her lap in an attitude of compliance.  Her head was down and one tear was working its way down her left cheek.  I will remember that image forever.  

I walked over, squatted down in front of her, put my arms around her and said, “What’s wrong with my little bee?”

Before she could answer, her mom spoke up.  “We stopped by _____, and she gave her a Sleeping Beauty magnet, and Sabria started arguing because she wanted the Elsa magnet, and _____only had one of those, and Sabria wouldn’t stop pressing for it, and she was so ungrateful, and we made a big scene, and when we were back in the car, I reminded her what I’ve told her a hundred times about gifts and when someone gives you a gift, you just say thank you, and you don’t ask for something else, and I said I was going to tell you about it because you said the next time Sabria made a scene in public to tell you because you told her you were going to put her Elsa dolls in the safe the next time she did, so I’m telling you now!”  Natalie said all of this on one long breath, and as her face turned redder and redder, I feared she would pass out from lack of oxygen, but thankfully, she didn’t.

“Well, Sabria,” I said, “Looks like I’m going to have to lock up your Elsa dolls.”

“But Gee,” she protested, “You said five-year-olds act like this sometimes.”  (The child never forgets anything I say.)

“Yes, I did say five-year-olds act like this sometime,” I conceded, “But the point is, you can’t keep acting like this for the rest of your life or people won’t like you, and if nobody likes you, you won’t have anybody to play with.”

Sabria is a people person, so that argument hit its mark.  “Okay, Gee,” she said.

Sometimes, I really envy the grandparents who tell me they spoil their grandkids then send them back home for their parents to deal with.  Sabria lives with us, so Garey and I can’t do that, hence my locking up the Elsa dolls.  Natalie and Garey say I should keep the dolls in the gun safe until Sabria changes her attitude, but I know Sabria, and the dolls would be trained snipers by that time.  I’m going to see how she acts at her next dance class on Tuesday night, and if she behaves, I’ll set the dolls free. 

Natalie is getting married in the fall of this year, which means she and Sabria will be moving out.  They will be living in Rochester.  Sabria has made sure I know how to get to the new house, so I can come visit her.  “If you can’t come to my house, I can come to yours,” she told me, “I know how to get here.  I can walk.”  She probably could.

I’m going to miss her being here every day, but it would be good to be able to be the nice guy now and then, and maybe even spoil her a little then send her home for her mom to deal with.