89 Mio smartly pointed to the stovetop with a grin. Next to the bubbling pot of miso soup was a steaming black teapot, shifted slightly off the burner to cool. “That’s Ojii-san’s tea,” she said. “I smelled it from upstairs.” Mio’s mother scooped Mio up into her arms. “That’s very observant of you,” she laughed. “But you need to change out of your pajamas before he comes. It’s rude to wear pajamas with visitors in your home.” Mio hurriedly pushed away from her mother’s stern gaze and raced upstairs. After Mio decided to wear a red sweater and a blue skirt, she made her way back down to the foyer. She sat on a bench and waited for Grandpa’s knock, anxiously swinging her legs. It wasn’t long before Mio heard his characteristic rap-raprap, and she threw the door open with gusto. “Jiji!” Mio giggled as she was swept up into her grandpa’s arms. Grandpa Sato chuckled affectionately in return. He was a small man who smiled easily and laughed even more easily. Mio loved his strong nose, his wide, kind eyes, his vanishing hair, and the way his tummy bulged slightly as he limped from his war wounds. “My dear Mio-san,” Grandpa Sato said with a twinkle in his eye. “Don’t you know at your old age that you must bow to your elders to show respect to them?” Mio hurriedly bowed to Grandpa Sato. “I’m only seven years old!” she said hotly. “I am not old!”
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