Vivian has set about establishing a minimum distance which her adults must keep from her. Lean towards her high chair, and she’ll push you away with the flat of her hand. Get too close to her on one of her strolls, and she’ll stop and give your leg a shove. But stop and watch her go further, and she’ll turn around and summon you, with an imperious little wave: “come me!”
At the playground yesterday she actually took James and I by the hands and lined us up on the rim of the sandbox, where we could watch her without getting in her way. “Who’s in charge?” said James. “Vivian’s in charge.”
