“You know that man.”
“What man dad?”
“The one you go out with.”
“A man you go out with? You mean a boyfriend?”
“No, not a boyfriend. He takes you out?”
I knew, but who listens to a kid.
“Jee-go-low, you know, he takes you out.”
“Jee-go-low? Dad, what are you talking about?”
He got that mischievous smile. He wasn’t going to let this one pass him by. “What’s the matter Jeen, don’t you spik English?”
“Of course I speak English” she thundered back. “I was born in this country!”
“Jeen, Jee-go-low, you pay him to take you out.”
At that point I spoke up. “You mean gigolo Grandpa?”
He slapped his hand down on the table. “Gigolo! That’s it! Gigolo.”
“Gigolo! Dad why didn’t you say gigolo? You know what that is. Don’t I speak English!” Shaking her head in exasperation she turned back to what she was cooking.
Margaret-Anne spotted a bullet on the ground next to her grandfather’s shed. She picked it up, her little brother saw and came running. “Can we hit the back?” She thought about it. Being the older sister she was wiser. “It’ll explode. Dad might hear. He’ll take it.” She held it eye level. They talked about laying it on its side and hitting the back so it would shoot forward. Dad wouldn’t see that. He’d be proud they were so smart. “It won’t if we hit it with a rock” Geoff pleaded figuring the rock would smash it if it didn’t work. Simple enough. “Ok. Find a rock, let’s see if we can make it shoot” but dad who’d been standing on the other side of the shed overheard everything and walked around to them.
He took it out of her hand holding it for both of them to see. “If you succeed you could blow up your finger” he explained and then continued with how bullets are made, the physics behind why it’d explode that way, how they work best with guns unless there’s a problem causing them to backfire, the details of guns backfiring, so… it’s best left in the hands of grownups. Satisfied with his lesson and knowing he’d impressed them he placed the bullet back into her hand, turned to walk to the house trusting them with it oblivious to the fact he’d lost both of them after 15 seconds of his lecture, which for kids is a pretty good attention span. He’d also fueled Margaret-Anne’s interest. She couldn’t wait for him to stop talking. Giddy because he hadn’t taken it away making it better than Christmas, she turned to her brother who’d almost fallen asleep standing there.
“Find a rock.”
As they turned focusing on the ground for the best rock, Margaret-Anne’s heart sinking a little because there weren’t that many rocks around the shed but didn’t want to let her brother down so she was thinking where else they could look, neither one noticed flabbergasted dad had spun around and was hastening in their direction.
I love how each generation of fathers are becoming more involved with childcare. My husband was much more involved with our children than his father ever was and my sons are even more comfortable changing diapers and bathing infants. all paintings found at Dad and daughter relationships, as explained by 10 paintings. One of my […]
I know because I was up before 4 and then it got noisy and I looked at the clock, well; cell phone screen. There went tranquility. It was so, what can I call it, it was so active, there was so much chatter it was as if they were all getting their assignments for the day or hadn’t seen each other for so long it was such a delightful surprise… many delightful surprises. So much expression if there could be with chirping, or if there are expressive lilts in chirping voice the volume evident on a stock market floor. I don’t know but I know everyone was up. I thought “birds begin chirping at 4am” then thought “Hey! ‘Birds Begin Chirping Around 4A.M’.” Works for me.
And here we are.
Maybe it was assignments for mother’s day.
My mom and I had a conversation about Mother’s Day and I realized where I got my perspective from, not that I had to agree but I did this time. I told my kids don’t worry about Mother’s Day, every day is Mother’s Day when you’re a mom not that it stopped them from making cards and homemade gifts which were always a treasure to receive. For me my kids were the best part and that was every day. When I came home from work and we were together nothing outside could hurt me. I guess Mother’s Day could be like birthdays. You’d celebrate those, then again; you do on their birthdays. See what I mean? How don’t you celebrate mothers’ day?
Happy Mothers’ Day.
A million birds outside or at least that’s what it sounds like with an interesting array of chirps. Haven’t checked the weather yet, wonder what type of day it’s going to be.
52 now and nothing but sunshine going into the upper 70s. Perfect day for a birthday party at the rollerskating rink and anything else. Grandson is turning 7 and 19 days later the other one will be 2. Life does pass in a blink though I remember being anxious to hit those milestones, 13, 16, 18 then 21. After that there’s nothing else to worry about finally old enough to be legal for everything and no doors will ever be closed to you again. Watch out for big trouble though, all decisions count, you’re responsible and accountable for you but the world is wide open.
Well, I thought I’d write but we both got sick with temps over 100o, went to sleep early, but the night was restless with hallucinating dreams – you know how it is with a fever even slight and the mind can’t rest – then he woke close to 8, I was up around 5:30, and things had to be done, rinse a mouth that felt sticky with an old fashioned remedy, then medicine given, then being made comfortable then temps taken again, then… then… then… three times I attempted hot espresso, found soothing things for a scratchy throat and now it’s way past dawn, in fact it’s mid morning but by the time I’d thought to add that it’d become after noon. Did have hazelnut hot cocoa… mm… very good.
Maybe tomorrow… I’ll shoot for that.