The day after Operation: Ultimate Fun, I learned an important lesson: chaos does not disappear just because you had a good laugh the day before. Chaos simply takes notes… and comes back better prepared.
I woke up to the sound of Grandma in the kitchen, already worried about something—and it wasn't even 8 a.m.
"Kris," she called, "you awake?"
I pretended not to hear her.
"Kris!"
I sighed. "Yeah, Grandma?"
"Why you still in that bed?"
"I'm resting."
"You rested all night."
Kristina leaned over from her bed and whispered, "Told you. She don't believe in rest."
Grandma appeared in the doorway like she had teleported. "Get up before your bones get stiff."
"My bones are fine," I said.
She squinted at me. "They don't look fine."
Kristina laughed. "Grandma, he's like seven. What bones?"
"That's when it start," Grandma replied seriously. "Early."
Mom's voice floated in from the kitchen. "Ma, let the kids wake up."
"I am letting them wake up," Grandma said. "I just don't trust the process."
We finally got up, and immediately Grandma started her routine—checking if we washed our faces properly, if our hair looked "respectable," and if we had eaten enough breakfast to survive the next hour.
"Kris, eat another spoonful."
"I'm full."
"You don't look full."
"How do you look full?"
Grandma pointed at Kristina. "She look full."
Kristina froze mid-bite. "What does that mean?"
"I don't know," Grandma admitted. "But I feel it."
After breakfast, Kristina decided it was another adventure day. She leaned close to me and whispered, "New mission."
I raised an eyebrow. "Does it involve trouble?"
"Obviously."
Before she could explain, Mom turned around. "Why are y'all whispering?"
"We're not," Kristina said quickly.
"You are," Mom replied.
"It's a quiet conversation," Kristina argued.
Mom sighed. "Just… don't break anything."
Grandma added, "And don't go outside without telling me. And don't run. And don't climb. And don't—"
"We get it, Grandma," Kristina said gently. "We'll be careful."
Grandma pointed a finger at her. "You say that every time."
Kristina smiled. "And it's always mostly true."
Our mission took place in the backyard, which Kristina declared was now "The Forbidden Zone." According to her, the grass hid invisible traps, the fence was enemy territory, and the old chair was a lookout tower.
She handed me a stick. "Your weapon."
I inspected it. "This is just a stick."
"Exactly," she said. "No one suspects the stick."
We were deep into the mission—me crawling dramatically, Kristina whispering fake warnings—when Grandma suddenly appeared at the back door.
"WHY ARE YOU ON THE GROUND?"
Kristina jumped. "Tactical reasons!"
Grandma crossed her arms. "Get off that dirt. You gonna catch something."
"What do you catch from dirt?" I asked.
Grandma paused. "…Dirt sickness."
Kristina nodded seriously. "That sounds dangerous."
"It is," Grandma said, satisfied. "Now stand up."
As soon as she went back inside, Kristina whispered, "Enemy retreated."
Later, Mom made us help clean the living room—the same living room Kristina had "abstractly decorated" the day before.
"Kris, pick that up," Mom said.
Kristina pointed at me. "He did it."
"I did not!"
Mom raised an eyebrow. "Kristina."
She sighed. "Okay, we both did it."
"That's better," Mom said. "Honesty."
Grandma watched us clean like a supervisor. "Make sure you don't bend wrong."
"How do you bend wrong?" I asked.
"Wrong," she said firmly.
By the afternoon, we were tired but still laughing. Kristina sat next to me on the floor, nudging my shoulder. "You know today wasn't as fun as yesterday."
"No explosions," I agreed.
She smiled. "But still good."
I nodded. "Yeah. Still good."
Grandma passed by and put a blanket over us even though it wasn't cold.
"We're not tired," Kristina protested.
"I am," Grandma said. "So y'all are too."
Mom laughed from the kitchen. "Ma, they're fine."
"I know," Grandma replied. "I'm just making sure."
As the day slowed down, I realized something. Between Grandma's worrying, Mom's calm strength, and Kristina's endless imagination, I was surrounded by protection I didn't even know how to name yet.
Kristina leaned her head against mine. "Tomorrow," she whispered, "we do something bigger."
I smiled. "Define bigger."
She grinned. "You'll see."
And knowing Kristina, that meant trouble, laughter, and another story I'd remember forever.