Girl's Afternoon

( pedicures and petit-fours... )

At some point in the afternoon, Mom and I lost control of the conversation.  We were asked somewhere around a thousand questions, some of which were, quite frankly, unanswerable.  And some I'm still thinking about.  She told us after tea that she had to get home to go to a super secret emergency meeting.  When Mom asked what it was about, she answered simply and without any guile, "Granny, it's secret."

We had a conversation about ladylike manners, and at one point she demonstrated the way her little brother might attack a little pink, iced cake.

Me.  Oh, Brenna.  Heavens to Betsy.

Brenna.  (blinks) Aunt Carrie, who's Betsy?

There were a million other exchanges much like this one.  She's a very literal girl.  And I'm somewhat prone to the dramatic.  It makes for an interesting aunt/niece dynamic that involves a lot of me explaining myself and a lot of Brenna looking at me like I'm nuts, which may or may not be true.  I love that girl, though.  She may have a five year plan to rule the world.

I wouldn't know.  I wasn't invited to that super secret, emergency meeting.