Three years ago…
"Grandpa!" I yelled in contempt and hid my hands behind my back.
"Give me your palms, you brat! I told you to wash your hands before eating, didn't I?" His hand is on his waist while the other is holding his wooden stick, the one he usually uses to beat me up when I do something foolish.
"Wait, Grandpa. Where did you find your stick?" I remember throwing it yards away from the backyard two days ago. How come he found it? The stick didn't go back on its own, did it?
"Aw! That hurt!" I glared at him when he knocked my forehead.
"Grandpa, can you be a little nicer to me? I am a girl. Don't you think I deserve a nicer treatment? I can see that you are treating me like a boy."
He sighed and put his stick down. He sat and started eating. I giggled and sat across him in our small wooden table.
