Watch-ing Out

A snowy Ninja.

They had spent the weekend playing.

Running. Hide and seek-ing. Laughing.

Eating.

A bit of sleeping.

It was Sunday morning.

Gramma had them in their Sunday clothes. Hair was brushed and shining.  

It was almost time to leave for Sunday meetings.

Gramma still had things to do, so Brother and Sister had time on their hands.

What to do? What to do?

They couldn’t get dirty, so eating was out.

As were most of their usual activities.

Hmmm . . .

Sister conceived a brilliant plan. She would teach Ninja classes!

These would entail remaining upright—mostly.

And keeping clean—again, mostly.

They started in. Or rather, she started in.

“Now do what I do!” she commanded little Brother. She climbed up on the bench and hopped off.

He climbed up on the bench and hopped off.

She repeated the motion.

He did, too. Then sat down.

She hopped on one leg.

Brother raised an eyebrow.

She jumped on two legs across the room.

Brother looked around.

She bent down and sneaked from piece of furniture to piece of furniture.

Her head popped up from behind the couch. “Hey! You’re not doing it!” She looked at me. “Gramma! He’s not doing it!”

I looked at Brother.

“I’m a Watching Ninja,” he said calmly.

Well that explains it.

And next time I’m in spin class, I’m using it.