Been hangin on the bus board, it is cold this weekend, and I am shut in. I am quickly tiring of mind numbing debate on the subject of diesel fuel, who is sticking it to who, where it is, how it is that we cannot have any of it. It is slowly turning my mind to oatmeal.
The grandkids came by this weekend and that is a GOOD THING they have a tendency to detour my thoughts, and get my mind headed in another direction. Small children are good for the soul. When they are here, I no longer think of cheap third world thugs named Chavez or God Awful Kadafi or why there hasn’t been a refinery built in this country for over forty years.
I just sit here, listen to this sweet music of these small children playing with one an another, pet the dog, and savor the moment, like a fine bottle of wine.
They say that “If I had known Grandkids were so much fun, I would have had them first.” and I have to whole heartedly agree. I suppose there is a grain of truth in there somewhere. They constantly pull me away from the abyss, by doing nothing out of the ordinary, other than just being themselves.
So today, I find myself sitting here watching these three little dinkers play (my grand-babies) and listening to their seemingly endless chatter, their amusement of just about anything, breaks them out into raucous laughter. Ear splitting and long lasting laughter.
Their joy is somewhat infectious and it is hard to stay in a bad mood, when you are in the company of these two kids. Their little brother, who is quite the handful himself (he is just barely two years old), is quickly drawn into it, although I am not sure he understands what all the commotion is about.
You ever notice how small children celebrate life?
They just laugh, and I mean laugh hard, at just about anything. They laugh for the sheer joy of it and nothing more. It is that childlike innocence that we all secretly yearn for in our lives, those carefree days where the only problem we had was cramming enough waking hours in the day, devoted to nothing but fun.
You forget to laugh, you have to replace laughter with worry. Where will I get the money for groceries, where will I find cheap gas, who is going to send these kids thru college, why is the government running amuck? Over time, all of this, in no certain order, erodes your life, it steals your joy and you find very little humor in life.
“When you grow up … A little piece of your heart dies.”
You also lose credibility with not only the younger set, but some of your peers. My grand daughter’s favorite expression is … “For Real Grandpa?” … she has a hard time with some of the things I try to explain to her. She is more preoccupied with “Where do butterflies sleep at night?” and “Do you have any healthy food in your refrigerator?”
And I will patiently sit with her and try to explain why the old bus uses a lot of fuel, and that fuel costs a whole lot of money, and we cannot go to DisneyWorld because it is a long ways away. And she just looks at me with those big brown eyes, eyes a guy like me could get lost in …. and says …. “For Real Grandpa?”
No one believes seniors . . . everyone thinks they are senile.
An elderly couple was celebrating their sixtieth anniversary. The couple had married as childhood sweethearts and had moved back to their old neighborhood after they retired. Holding hands, they walked back to their old school. It was not locked, so they entered, and found the old desk they’d shared, where Andy had carved “I love you, Sally .”
On their way back home, a bag of money fell out of an armored car, practically landing at their feet. Sally quickly picked it up and, not sure what to do with it, they took it home. There, she counted the money – fifty thousand dollars!
Andy said, “We’ve got to give it back.”
Sally said, “Finders keepers.”
She put the money back in the bag and hid it in their attic. The next day, two police officers were canvassing the neighborhood looking for the money, and knocked on their door. “Pardon me, did either of you find a bag that fell out of an armored car yesterday?”
Sally said, “No”.
Andy said, “She’s lying. She hid it up in the attic.
Sally said, “Don’t believe him, he’s getting senile”
The agents turned to Andy and began to question him. One said: “Tell us the story from the beginning.”
Andy said, “Well, when Sally and I were walking home from school yesterday ….”
The first police officer turned to his partner and said, “We’re outta here!”
Be yourself–every one else is taken.