I was able to pry Mr. Roosevelt's slightly pinched face away from her, but only by slowly unbending her tightly clenched little fingers.  I felt like a member of the Spanish Inquisition or Newt Gringrich in a divorce court.

She was not happy.  She took her hat and threw it at me.  Missed.  Picked up the hat and threw it again.  Screamed.  Fell into a pattern of sobs and cries, upsetting her sister and making me feel less than noble.  She would have said bad words, had she known any.

All this because she'd found a dime on the car seat and wanted it, while the Responsible Grandparents are afraid she might swallow it, choke, block her windpipe etc., etc.

And she did try to put it in her mouth, which lead to the taking of candy away from babies etc....

We'd been to the grocery store.  The girlies had been delightful.  Content to ride around in the carts, holding our vegetables and fruit tossing them into the cart when they need a hand to eat another yogurt covered raisin.  Shaking the canned black olives and announcing, "There's water in there."

Eating half a green bean.  Selecting head of lettuce.  Discussing the merits of various breads with Gege.  Looking for Nana.  Singing to various strangers.  They didn't even cry at the checkout when they discovered we had not gone to the store that thoughtfully provides lollipops to the younger customers.

On the way home we drove around looking at the houses decorated with Christmas lights.  This is no match for the interest the twins had in Pumpkins during the Halloween season.  Ainsley is alternately screaming at Gege and politely mimicking Nana's descriptions of the lights and displays we are seeing. "Lights, pretty lights."  "A reindeer."  "Santa Claus"  "Homeless Palestinians" (That's Gege's contribution, spotting a manger scene.) Savannah is quietly endorsing the tour, "See more lights, Gege,"  but seems all too aware of her sister's displeasure with events.

Ainsley announces she's had it with "Christmas Stuff," as she calls it.   She wants to "Go home now, Gege.  Home."   I turn another corner, wandering through a neighborhood not far from home, but not one we go through often.  "Going round and round," Ainsley announces, sounding disgusted, "Round and round."

But when we get home, anything to delay going into the house.  It's nearly dark.  The crescent moon is hanging over a neighbor's house.  Savannah point's out the moon to us;  Ainsley claims, "My moon, Ainsley's moon."

Savannah raises her arms up quickly and sharply, like a conductor ready to start the Second Movement.  She grunts as she does so, as though stretching to her limit.  "My can't reach it," she laments, jumping her little hop a few times, "My can't reach it."

Ainsley finds a three foot long branch under the pines and tries to hit the moon.  Fails.  She then walks over to the neighbor's and up their driveway, tries again to swipe at the moon with her stick.  Asks Gege to pick her up.  He does, but even from his shoulder the moon eludes her.

We go in the house.  Pretty soon Daddy comes home, then Mommy.  We get in the Elmo Van and go home.  We have supper, watch some TV, get ready for bed.  I empty my pants pockets, find the dime.

It's still sitting on my nightstand.