Princess Diva at the Beach

by Grandpa in late 2012

She is our darling beautiful little Princess. She is also a raging diva.

Today nothing pleases her, least of all me. Her favorite person in the world, perhaps, is a grandparent, but I definitely ain't the one.

I take her from her stroller and leave it on the strand and descend with her to the beach. Her brother PJ, age 5 nearly, is blissfully wading in the surf. My Lady his Grandma is playing on the beach.

Mei-Mei the angel, just turned two, does not care for the ocean. Neither does she want me to sit with her on the seaside rocks. Also, she does not want to be set upon the sand. The parameters become quite obvious:

(1) There is no place on this globe that is an acceptable option upon which to plant her two tiny feet, and

(2) She does not wish to be carried.

If I violate either of these two simple rules, she lets me know at an astonishing volume for such a small tyke. I stride off with her up the beach. Perhaps the terns rooting at the verge of the tide might interest her, or the surfers, or the white sails in the bay? No, no, and no.

Up the beach, turn with the cove and back up the hill to Shoreline Park. Following, Lady tells me they have left their shoes where PJ was playing. But to me, picking up light and uncomplaining objects seems trivial. I forge ever onward.

When I want to shift darling Mei from my right to left arm to rest, she complains. When I reverse in a few moments, she complains. While I remain as I am, plodding forth, she complains.

Finally, after about a week, we arrive back at the stroller. Our Princess is content to settle in and be pushed. She is quite drowsy.

Lady goes down the stairs for the shoes. PJ falls into step beside me as Lady pushes the little Sweetie towards home.

"Peej, you are so very patient," I say. I don't mean to compare, but he catches the reference. He comments, almost in reverie, as we walk:

"Mei-Mei is going to be smarter than me ... Lots of people are ... I just can't think of their names right now."