Mabel Watson Payne had seriously begun to doubt (in the picture above) that there was anything interesting to be done with the plain white handkerchief she had removed (in hopeful good faith) from my pocket. Before long she decided to abandon it as hopeless, falling back instead on the reliable virtues of plastic eggs and hard-page books and those hand-me-down horses that belonged to her mother in the 1980s.
When nap time came, it turned out to be a rocking chair nap. Grandparents have a special license for impractical indulgences like rocking chair naps.
