Measuring Years

Measuring Years

“This is like looking for a needle in a hay stack!” Mae said out loud.

“What’s a needle?” Sandy asked, dropping clothes in the corner.

“You know, what you sew with...” Mae said, still poking through the toys.

“What a sew?”

Finally, tuning into the conversation, Mae looked at her five-year old granddaughter.

“It’s not a what,” she said, “Sewing is a way to keep two pieces of cloth together. If you look at your shirt you will see what I mean.” She walked over and lifted the edge of Sandy’s shirt, “See where they go together? See the little dots with something like string coming out? That’s thread and it’s what holds the parts together.”

“Wow,” said Sandy, “I never saw that before.” Suddenly she was picking up clothes and studying them before tossing them on the bed.

Mae smiled, she actually got Sandy to pick up the clothes by making them interesting. A lot of good it did, the room was still a wreck. Suddenly Sandy was in front of her. “What’s a haystack?” she suddenly asked.

“Oh, it’s a pile of dried up plants. The hay is a plant that a farmer grows then picks and then dries, and then he puts them in a pile and they call it a hay stack.”

“Oh,” Sandy said, obviously not as impressed at haystacks as needles, “What does Sugar Daddy mean? Is Daddy a Sugar Daddy?”

“Where did you hear that?” Mae said, in shock.

“At school, some older kids said it. It sounded like candy though. Is a Sugar Daddy candy?”

“Gee,” Mae said suddenly, “Look at the clock, we need to get going!

Sandy jumped up and grabbed her jacket, “I’m ready!”

‘Phew!’ Mae thought, ‘Maybe I am getting too old for this,’ then, “Nah....”