Day 7: #30Shorts, Todzilla in the Making, Isabella

You’ve read about Meghan Todzilla here a few times. It may appear that Meghan dominates that character, but she wasn’t the first and there is another to follow.

My nephew, Sean was a Todzilla,  I’ve written about him here, he’s my Crème Brulee, but lately, he’s a Teenzilla, that will be another story.

The one to follow and is fast on the move to be the next Todzilla is my youngest granddaughter, Isabella Rose. She doesn’t have the same vocal energy as Miss Meghan, but she has a low threshold for patience. She is so very like her mother, that when we tease her that she is ‘little Chrissie’, she stomps her foot, plants her fists on her hips and squeaks out, “I am NOT little Chrissie! I am NOT.!” Well, actually she is.

She has her mother’s moppy curly hair, and the general sharp witted replies to her general opposition of almost everything, which some might interpret as willfulness. It is. Just like her Mom.

One such occasion of that willfulness was tested on me when an early morning  minor fender bender distracted the morning routine of going directly to their daycare. The roads were incredibly icy and dangerous, so much so, that school busses were  pulled over until the roads were clear. Isabella and her brother Timmy were dropped off  to stay with me, as her parents addressed the car situation. It was one of those times when everybody was winter weary and beginning symptoms of cabin fever.  The little children were rammy and excited for a change of pace in the daily routine. But for me, it was early morning and more hectic energy was not something I was looking forward to. After feeding them some breakfast, I suggested they watch Television for awhile. That lasted 2 minutes. Soon the kids were literally running around in circles chasing each other and screeching. In the meantime, I received a phone call from my daughter that because of the road conditions, they were calling it a ‘snow day’ and going home, no car, no work, no daycare.
After letting the kids blow off some of that cabin fever, I insisted they sit still and placed them separately on each end of the sofa. Timmy began to stretch out on his end and relax in to watching television. Bella decided that he looked too comfortable and began to try to distract his attention. “Tiiimmmmeeee”, she tried to whisper, but I was sitting right across the room. Timmy and Megahn begged her to stop, "or else you'll make Grammy mad."

Bella scooched down toward Timmy’s end of the couch, looking right at me and kept egging her older brother to wrestle and play instead of watching television. “Bella, get off your brother and back to your end of the couch.” I stated  matter-of-factly, confident her parents were on their way to rescue me.
She didn’t exactly comply and continued to plug away at her brother trying to get a partner in crime. I raised my voice, “ISABELLA, get back to your seat!” She plopped back, folded her arms and pouted, “I can’t wait to leave here and go to Miss Maureen’s.”
“You’re not going to Miss Maureen’s today, the roads are too bad.”

“My mommy SAID I was going to Miss Maureen’s. She’s coming to get me and my brother and we are going to Miss Maureen’s!” Yeah, she was just 3 years old at that time.

Shortly after that encounter with my little Todzilla-in-the-making, her parents returned and sat down to have a cup of coffee. Bella toddled into the kitchen and inquired as to when she was going to Miss Maureen’s and was informed that they were staying home because the roads were too bad.

Before she could react or respond, Meghan the veteran Todzilla, called out from the other room, “See Bella, I told you Grammy was in charge!”