She's 9.
A diva. A sunny dancer, but...
she presumes she can do things with my belongings, without asking.
I say no. She gets into a huff (while looking at me).
I ignore her.
She knows I love her, but she tests me/us
Her brother is a different, cerebral, kettle of fish. A WYSIWYG. Wears his heart on his sleeve.
As she leaves, we hug and say, love you.
I love em both.
But she's a challenge.
Seems it’s now Harry’s uncle - the Earl of Spencer - having his turn at a “tell all” book.
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