Ashley Sweetheart, put your shoes on.
My mom's voice echoed through the house, strained and filled with exasperated affection. She was jogging after Ashley, who darted around the living room barefoot, giggling like a little wind-up toy full of energy.
"Grandma, catch me! Then I'll put my shoes on!" Ashley squealed, twirling near the couch.
I couldn't help but laugh. These two always made the house feel alive.
The front door creaked open, and Dad stepped inside, his arms full of grocery bags—mostly fresh vegetables and other items we were probably low on. He gave Ashley a warm smile as he walked in and placed the bags on the dinner table with a light huff.
"I see Operation 'Put Your Shoes On' is still ongoing," he said, giving my mom a teasing look before turning to me.
"Every morning is a battlefield," Mom muttered as she finally caught Ashley and began helping her slip into her tiny pink sneakers.
