When I was a little girl, my Papaw kept Chris & me while Mama & Daddy went to Hawaii. Being handy - & a good Papaw - he built me a little stool so I could "wash dishes" in the kitchen sink. One day, he left me happily playing in the sudsy water until all of a sudden, he heard "a bloodcurdling scream" (his words). He raced into the room expecting to find me grievously wounded, only to come upon me holding out my pruny hands in tears & exclaiming, "They're ruined!" (I was a bit of a drama queen as a child.) I find today that this little girl still lives in me, for after spending an hour scrubbing doors, molding, & baseboards, my hands are pruny, & I can barely stand it. Thankfully, I shed my drama queen side long ago, so I'm not in hysterics . . . much. ;-)
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