Booker T. Washington is having a stay-cation at his G-ma’s house.

Growing up, my brother, Jeff, always (and I mean that literally) stayed at my Nana’s house. One night, I planned to sleepover. But, when mom came to tuck me in and leave, I confessed that I was scared. Mom packed me up and let Jeff stay instead.

Booker T. Washington is much braver than me.

After driving G-ma to her fluff-n-fold (hair appointment), Deseret Book and the grocery store, Booker stayed.

Mom called to fill me in on the details.

MOM:  When I give him his M-E-D-S, I put them in his T-R-E-A-T-S. But, I don’t tell him they have his M-E-D-S. I just spell those words.

ME: (Writing it all down so I can blog about it.) Well, that’s probably for the best.

MOM:  Today, he played with his downstairs piggy and learned how to squeak it. He jumps up on the sofa, but won’t jump up on the chair. I’m going to measure to see if they are the same height.

ME: (Thinking, seriously?) I’ve never thought about the height of the furniture.

MOM:  Well, and, he won’t jump up on my bed. He’ll jump down, but he waits for me to pick him up and put him on the bed.

ME:  He won’t want to come home.

MOM: He knows I’ll be careful and put my hand under his backend so his back doesn’t hurt.

The Next Day

MOM: I measured the sofa and the chair. They are both 18″. But, the bed is 21″. Booker did jump up in the chair today, but I’ll still pick him up when we go to bed.