The Criminal Mastermind

A few days ago I woke from a cold-and-flu induced sleep to a sound that wasn't possible. A door that is kept locked by orders of the Supreme Commander, a.k.a. Mommy, was opening and closing.

I got up to check. It was unlocked. Mumbling something that could have been "Well, I thought it was locked but I guess not..." I reset the lock and went back to bed. A few minutes later I heard the same door opening and closing, this time accompanied by suspiciously giggle-like sounds. The logical assumption would be that the kids unlocked the door, but this was completely impossible. The only keys for said lock are kept in an ultra-secret, very-nearly-childproof location, and there had been no security breaches of late.

I stumbled back out of bed and followed the giggles to a very proud and slightly nervous Grace. "Did you open this door?" Huge grin and huge nod. "HOW did you unlock this door?" Grace held up a hair clip she pulled out of her newly-straightened hair. "With this." "How in the world did you know to do that?" "Um, I just thinked it with my mind and it worked. My hairclips are magic, maybe."

Maybe it was the cold/flu stupor, but I just stood there and grinned at my dimpled darling eldest daughter. I had a little flash-forward picture of all the hard knocks life will throw at Ms. Grace--all the ways she'll be held back, held down, or held aside. She'll experience being hemmed in, restrained by false expectations--her own as frequently as other people's. She'll know the frustrations of doors that seem to be chained and padlocked shut to her.

And I knew in that moment that she'll be just fine.

A couple of magic hairclips and her 'thinking mind,' and Miss Gracie will take on the world.

Poor world; my money's on Grace.