She's on a swim team for the summer.
And she thinks her 'guns' are getting pretty big.
When she was here the other day she challenged me to an arm wrestling contest.
I told her she probably didn't want to challenge me because I was pretty strong.
She kind of gave me 'that look'.
You know the one?
"Ummm...yeah...Grandma is old and I can totally kick her behind in this!"
With those thoughts clearly written all over her sweet little face, she perservered.
I finally agreed, and we went to the dining room table.
We squared up our arms.
She pushed. Hard.
And I just resisted her.
"Grandma! I thought you said you were strong! You're not even pushing me down!"
"Okay," I said, "Do you want me to slam your arm down or just lower it gently? I don't want to hurt you."
She looked skeptical and then informed me to just push her arm down gently. "I don't think you can Grandma, because I'm pretty strong."
I lowered her arm to the table.
She looked quite surprised.
"That was just luck, Grandma! Let's go again!"
I lowered her arm again.
And a third time.
Finally, she conceded, "Okay, Grandma, you are a lot stronger than you look! How about a hand squeezing contest?"
I asked her if she was sure she wanted to try.
She agreed but quickly added, "Stop squeezing when I say STOP, okay?"
I squeezed a little bit.
Her eyes got big.
I squeezed a little bit more.
Her eyes got bigger.
"Okay! Okay! Stop Grandma!"
I was barely even squeezing.
She asked if she could go watch TV and then ran off.
I sat at the table for a few minutes, grinning.
Yep. I'm old. And out of shape.
But I can still out arm wrestle an eight year old.