By Robin DearingAs I read Richie's suggestion to one of our reader's about things to do with little kids, I was reminded of our last trip to the mall. It was early on Sunday. We trying to figure out if Bill's cell phone could be resurrected after being transported in the pocket of his damp swim trunks. (Note to RAZR owners: These phones have a serious aversion to water or dampness of any kind — just mentioning any kind of liquid in this cell phone's presence will send them into arrhythmia. Oh, and they have this little white dot inside the battery compartment that turns red if you so much as sneeze in the phone's general vicinity, thereby voiding your warranty.) Margaret is a notoriously unpleasant shopper. Even if we are shopping for her, she hates spending time among racks and shelves of things she cannot have. I promised her that if she would be patient while Bill took care of his phone, we'd let her play a good, long time at The Daily Sentinel play area in the mall. After being told that we were out of luck on getting Bill's phone replaced (but don't worry, the cell phone guy we bought the phones from is hooking us up), we dutifully trudged down the length of the mall to the play area. Mar happily stowed her flip-flops in one of the cubbies and began cavorting. As I sat on the benches within the play area, I noticed the signage explaining the rules and regulations. Included was a height guide denoting the height limit for the play area. I called Mar over and told her stand next to the height chart. Whoops. She was a good two inches over the height limit. I was shocked. She's just a little kid ... in my eyes. So that she's heading into the first grade and still reminiscing about her 6th birthday party is testament to the fact that she's not really a little kid anymore. I guess I'll have to get used to the idea that she's just a kid now.