"Six"

Ellie was a grouch.  Ellie was fussy and loud.  Ellie was goofing around with the cart pushing it away from me whenever I let go of it.  The problem with this maneuver is that she is 3 feet tall and can’t see that she is inevitably about to run into something/someone…usually someone minding their own business perusing a shelf not expecting to get creamed by a seemingly driver-less cart.

I asked Ellie to be patient. 

I asked Ellie to quiet down. 

I asked Ellie to not move the cart.

Before I go on, I should explain my tactic:  My “Mama Really Means Business” tactic –   She knows that when I bend down to her level and look her straight in her almond eyes and lower my voice I mean business, especially when we are in a store.

So I bent down to her, “Ellie, Mama has told you not to continue pushing the cart by yourself.  You could run into someone and hurt them couldn’t you?  How many times have I asked you not to do that?”

Ellie answered, “6″.  She was so wide-eyed as she nodded in agreement that her almond eyes were as big and round as quarters.

Trying not to crack up and lose the lesson, I said, “Boy, 6 is an awfully big number isn’t it!”