After an hour of running errands tonight, I grudgingly grab the shopping bags and shimmy out of the van seat. As I kick my feet on the ground, I pause and listen to my daughter and son chatting in the back. Their door slides open, and I hear, "What's the password?" Great, Cole's teasing Kenna again. I hold my breath and wait for the frustrated cry.
I'm surprised when I hear her reply, "fish?"
"No, what's the password?" Cole demands again. Again, I hold my breath for the sibling battle cry.
By, again she replies, "Ummm, pizza, ice cream, tractor, ummm, alligator?" She's clearly playing his game, and I think she's actually enjoying herself.
He giggles and exclaims, "What's the password?"
His game time is up and she says, "Cole, I don't know, let me out of the van!"
Suddenly, he pulls his feet back proclaiming, "The password station is broken." Kenna jumps past him, sprints through the garage into the house.
Turning around, I unbuckle Cole. "What happened?" I ask curiously.
"Oh, a screw popped out, the door fell off, and now the password station is broken," he convincingly explains. I pull him down from his seat, and he continues. "Kenna, bumped into the password door, and the screw fell to the ground. So, there isn't a password anymore." Cole continues.
I grin as he races into the house. I'm sure he is planning his next adventure with his big sister. I'm sure it will keep her on her toes! I wonder if their next encounter will such carefree and patient interaction. Of course, she might allow him to color pictures in her bedroom...but, I'm sure the password will return again.