WHEN EMMA MET SALLY

My wife has a granddaughter named Emma. Emma will have three years of life experience this month. In her tripleth year, the tyke has invented unoriginal naming tactics: many of her dolls are named, “Emma” or “Sally.”

Don’t worry about potentially embarrassing yourself at Emma and Sally gatherings in the playroom. Emma, the nearly three, can easily distinguish which Emma is which, or which Sally is which.

When entering Emma’s bedroom, amid books and blocks, expect a wooden toybox of Emmas’ and Sallys’, some clothed, some naked. (Apparently, it’s a clothing optional community!)

The latest word is that tea parties aren’t common in the bedroom, the conversation is lively and the topics varied. In the living room, Grandma’s fort building skills are required, as long as the materials are pillows and blankets. Diving from the leather couch onto the blankets and pillows is a nifty substitute for outdoor leaf piles from earlier generations.

And then, it’s capped off with grandma’s tickle monster routine. Sounds like I need to sign up for one of those grandma tickle sessions!