A mother sees mischief. A grandmother, genius.

There are lots of words I could use to describe my third child to you. I could give you a lengthy list of adjectives: boring to read, but the antithesis of boring to live with.

Instead, I give you this:

Once upon a time, a small boy, only two, 
wanted to do something really badly,
as small boys of two are apt to do,
but his mother disallowed it.  
Undeterred, the small boy 
went into the kitchen 
and spilled a cup of juice.
As his mother knelt to clean it, 
he smiled and ran off 
to the very thing she had made 
unmistakably clear he could not do.

His grandmother's love this story.