*chuckles softly and murmurs under your son's insistence (Mablung)* I rather meant something a bit more house-trained, perhaps...
*starts them walking back the way she came, in no particular hurry, thinking to keep her grandson perched where he is as long as he'll tolerate it (he's growing so very quickly)* *with a sigh in her tone* "Holding up" is about the best anyone can hope for, at the moment. *knowing you will understand this better, now that you are a father yourself:* We're all afraid to let Mír out of our sight, still.
Dad asked to see me
*blinks and glances at you a little sharply (she knows Thingol too well)* Oh?