That would be our great grandchildren. I can imagine a scenario ending with sudden cardiac arrest or an episode of temporary insanity. But it is worth the risk. It turned out to be a refresher course in human depravity. Believe me when I say that doctrine is much more vivid when it has little shoes. Our home lost it's baby proof qualities a long time ago. Little David is afflicted with compulsive button pushing syndrome. So when he walks by the TV it suddenly comes on--or off--whichever is the opposite mode from that which I had chosen. Music boxes mysteriously play music. And little Davey's compulsion is dramatically exacerbated when he has been told "That is a no no.". The next time the crime is perpetrated it is done with the most winsomely charming grin.
While all this is happening, big sister, Lillianna, is behaving like an angel because she has already made herself a first rate computer operator. She is helping Woody rescue somebody in a game on the Disney website. But now and again she wants to play one of our games. Unfortunately there are not enough games for four year olds in our home, and then she says, "What else?" She loves to help Papa in the garden and then chores take twice as long, but I also get twice the pleasure because she "helped" me.
I asked Bub (that's what they have dubbed this adorable little boy) if he had a load in his pants, and he immediately said, "no!" shaking his head with exaggerated certainty. But his lie was betrayed by the most toxic stench imaginable. At our age this becomes a two person project, but we haven't forgotten the basic technique.
So we decided to wear them out at Pirate Park. The place is designed for the smallest of citizens, and they really like it. This time, prompted by the example of other kids, Bub decided to climb the stairs to come down the slide. It's made of cement and is a model of safety design. If a little body happens to descend more rapidly than desired, the floor is made of rubber composition, and the traveler will bounce. But our caution proved unnecessary because little Bub came down feet first on his tummy. This created a braking friction as his shirt hiked up and his bare belly dragged all the way down. Nana watched in frozen disbelief as he opened his bottle of water and calmly poured it down his shirt.
When this active toddler decided to explore the landscape outside the park, of course I followed, carrying his shoe that seems to invariably dislodge itself several times a day. I knew he needed to travel a long distance before encountering danger, so even though I had him in view, he must have been 50 feet from me when we both spotted a tiny puddle left on the pavement. I'm sure we both knew what was about to happen. Now if he were headed for a busy street I'm sure I would have found it in me to run enough to avert tragedy. However at this point in my life I no longer consider a wet sock a tragedy. He found such giddy pleasure stomping in that puddle that I knew this was a time when it was okay for boys to be boys. I sorta wished I was his age so we could have shared the obvious joy together.
We love it when the great grandchildren come, but we get all the exercise we need in a day when they are in our care.
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