A story retold by Grandma Donna on Christmas 2016. At this particular time, we were all sitting about the living room and I was trying to get both grandmas and one grandpa to tell some stories abot their kids growing up, funny things they remember or how things used to be in "the good ole days".
Grandma was first to chime in.
"I'll tell you about one time. Well, we lived in the trailer and you kids were little. And by little I mean you were walking good and climbing up onto everything. I'd put you about 2 years old or so. You were very adventurous and pretty wild. On this day, I walked into the kitchen and you had managed to climb up on top of the kitchen counter. You were standing there on top of the counter with the cabinet door in your hand and the door flung wide open. You looked ornery as all get out and guilty as sin. In your pudgy little hands were gobs and gobs of gooey, melted chocolate chips. You had eaten most of them but also spilled a good lot all about the counter, onto the floor and into the folds of your clothes. There was chocolate just everywhere and chocolate chips all over your face and all over everything. I stood there for a moment, then finally said, "Who got into the chocolate chips?" Then, you swallowed the lump of chocolate in your mouth and looked at me as seriously as anything and said, "I don't know . . . mabye it was Terry!"