the delicious enchantment of gran'ma's pocketbook

I walked around the corner into the living room just as my 2nd daughter was saying, "no, no those are BapaMama's important things." Which allowed me to see what my little grand-daughter was doing without having to interfere or be part of stopping her at all.

In this brief moment, I saw my 2 1/2 year old grand-baby sitting in front of the coffee table, where she had found my soft pocketbook on the floor just beside my usual chair. She had had time, while her mama and her papa and I were still finishing our dinner in the kitchen, to open up each one of the many zippered pockets, and had laid out all the goodies in front of her, a wealth of grown up treasures.

There was sheer enjoyment on her face, produced by each discovery as she unearthed it, and also with, I am sure, the delightful consciousness that there was probably something a little bit forbidden in what she was doing.

It was a precious moment, to be savored, and an image I am happy to retain. How many times as children we experience enchantment with the simplest of events. I was truly appreciative by how kindly and calmly my daughter-in-law had stopped this play (after all, these were Gran'ma's toys, it was true!), while not putting any onus on the delight of the act itself.