Labor Day Diva

Covid screwed us out of a couple family gatherings, and the kids are still pissed about it. Sis had been counting down with her signature toddler math: “How many sleeps ‘til the party?” My heart couldn’t take it.

So Labor Day, we finally gather at Gammy and Pappy’s. My regular duo (Sis and Bubs) were already hyped, but this time the occasional trio showed up — M (freshly 4), B man (2), and baby C. Five kids. One house. Let the chaos begin.

I’m making the rounds, handing out hugs and smooches to whoever’s into it. Then I get to M, who can be a little Miss Touch-Me-Not sometimes. I respect that — boundaries are boundaries. So I ask, “Can I have a hug and kiss or no?” She looks at me with her whole heart and says, “I’ll never say no to that!” Yeah, I melted right there — like my thighs on a hot car seat in July.

And because this girl knows how to keep a moment going, she immediately follows it up with: “I have earrings, see? They’re real.” Birthday present from her parents — she begged for them, got them, and now shows them off any chance she gets. She even pointed out the post in her ear to prove they weren’t play jewelry. Brave, sassy, little diva with taste that honestly puts mine to shame.

M also happens to be the oldest in the cousin clique — and the bossiest (today). This girl has a vision, and in her mind everyone else is just background dancers. Usually the crew isn’t having it, but today? They let her cook.

Case in point: the Barbie Jeep. M is the only one of the bunch who can actually drive it without plowing into a tree like a drunk skunk. So naturally, she casts herself as driver. Everyone else? Passengers. Or worse, roadside fans. Honestly, I was thrilled — with her at the wheel, the adults could finally unclench and just watch instead of playing human traffic cones.

Driver picks the rules, and M runs with that like a tiny dictator. Her one rule? Only Sis was allowed in the Jeep. Girl power. No debates. Poor Bubs was sprinting after them like a rejected Uber request, while B man was perfectly content riding some toy that was about as off-road capable as a Target shopping cart with one janky wheel.

It was a shit show. It was absolute magic.