“I can’t wait to live you you again, S.E.”
Why is that, Grace?
“Because you let me sleep on the couch. Dad doesn’t. He tells me NO whenever I try to jump on it.”
Mom and Dad did just put in a new window and windowsill, and you do always end up in the windowsill. Your nails are going to scratch it up, so I have to side with them.
“Sorry I’m not tall like Sampson and can’t see out the window from the floor.”
At that point in the conversation, she took a quick look around the living room to make sure Dad was still downstairs. There was a smirk on her face when she turned back to me.
“Dad isn’t as smart as he thinks he his. Listen to this. He doesn’t trust me not to get on the couch when he goes downstairs-”
“-so he puts the black gates in front of the couch. Well, remember how you taught me to get onto the couch by jumping over the side?”
“I get off when I hear him coming up the stairs, and I’m back on my bed right away. But somehow he still knows that I was up there. Of course, I don’t admit it.”
He knows because you mess up the pillows and blanket on the couch.
“That might be it. Maybe. But anyway, he hasn’t figured out how I do it. He thinks I’m jumping over the black gates–which I could totally do if I wanted to–and keeps piling stuff in front of them. Now I just have to make sure that Sampson doesn’t turn into a tattletale.”
Gracie, I don’t think Sam cares.
“That’s true. He usually follows Dad downstairs anyway, even though he doesn’t get any attention. Who does that?”
Not everyone is an attention hound like you.
“Well they should be. Actually, no. I want all the attention for myself.”