Saturday, Sarah informed me that I needed to stop what I was doing because we were going to the apple festival (sounded more like “vestibule”). She was snapping out orders to everybody about getting ready.
I asked her, “What, in your 3 years of life, has given you the idea that you’re in charge?”
She got quiet for a moment, and I thought I’d overwhelmed her with a question she couldn’t answer, and that was the end of it… but no. She was merely framing her response: “Well, God made me not in charge, He made you in charge.”
I smiled at her, but my satisfaction was premature.
“But then I made me in charge.”
That, ladies and gentlemen, is my wife, in miniature.