This past week I imagined what it would be like to see myself through the eyes of
our visiting 10-year-old grandson, a respectful, responsible young man. Whether or not these perceptions are accurate is debatable, and yet my guess is they're probably close.
I’m not nearly as adventurous, silly, or funny as Grampa,
but am loveable none-the-less as the official fish fryer and cinnamon roll
baker, and the one who sympathizes with a cut toe or open-eye hit during a
pillow fight. I can’t hear conversation much of the time, but smile a lot and
fake animated expressions to compensate, which is sometimes funny and other
times sad. I take walks with my cell
phone in hand just in case (a security blanket), and sometimes retreat to sit
in front of the computer like a stone, absorbed in whatever old ladies think
about. Oh, and I maintain the contents
of a big basket on top of the refrigerator – cookies and crackers that are
off-limits for adults, but keep me in good standing with my grandkids who like
being spoiled.
Yup. That about
covers it.
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