Playful, Pius or Remembered Stuff

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Thursday, August 26, 2010

About 20 years ago I wrote an article that appeared in our denominational magazine about being a grandparent. Stacy was my first grandchild, and at the moment she was born my brain developed that now notorious mush spot that all grandparents know about. She could do no wrong. She was adorable and clever and I was sure she would distinguish herself with a career as an expert mechanic in some racing crew's pit. At that time--and for several years after--her father was the proud owner of a T-bucket racing machine. This was a high powered hot rod that technically had to have some genuine model T parts in order to qualify as a T-bucket. As a teen, Stacy never forgave her dad for selling that cute street racer.

As a squirt, Stacy was compelled by some inner urge to flip every switch or turn every knob within sight. But this genetic tendency seems to have been passed to the next generation as well. Lillianna, her daughter, is compelled by the same urge. Now it so happens that this same urge accounts for the fact that this young generation has developed such comfort with electronic gadgets and switches. Yes, indeed, it was Stacy who successfully attached all the wires for our entertainment center with an independent VHS/DVD unit and DirectTV box. When we lack understanding of some application for our phone, it is Stacy who can explain it to us.

Now it is her daughter, Lilly, who wants to push every button, turn every knob and pull every switch within her view. Today Lilly's brother, David, (rug rat age) who pulled himself on my leg and reached for the remote control to the TV. I had to inform him (in soft, loving tones of course) that this was a "no, no" and had to hold the instrument with some strength against his effort to wrench it from my hand. He said, as he often does just now, "Oh, oh!" Then he proceeded to chew on his sister's soft soled sandal. I think he is still bringing in another tooth. I think guardian angels protect little ones from the snail guts, dog poop and whatever other disgusting remnants may be on the soles of shoes.

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