Okay, okay, I admit it. After getting over the terror of my slightly (?) insane old-age-related fear of becoming a grandfather, I have come to LOVE this joyful status in life. And if you’ve read my blog much at all, you’ve seen the grandies: brothers Daniel and Gabriel, and grandtwins Matthew and Madison.
Simply put, they offer me such tremendous happiness, especially since they live right here in my Savannah.
For example, yesterday afternoon, as I twinsat (is that a word?), Matthew wanted a back massage. How do they learn that at 20 months? So he climbed up on the couch.
And directed me with his little hand, as he watched The Disney Channel.
I will treasure those four minutes.
And earlier in the day, after the Savannah morning downpour stopped, the twins puddled their way to fun.
Daniel and Gabriel whooped it up in New Orleans last weekend at the Louisiana Aquarium, the N.O. Children’s Museum, and the IMAX.
So today I decided I really needed to do something about my limp, flyaway, graying hair.
I’m frustrated because, well, I’m beginning to look my age. And, you know, that just doesn’t seem natural. So I consulted the online Yellow Pages for area barbers and hair salons and read about an intriguing little place out near Skidaway Island (I’m in Savannah, by the way) called … The Babies Hair Salon.
I drove over, parked Skedaddler (my lil gray Scion) (gray seems to be a theme in my life lately) (just not fifty shades of it) (yet) and found myself being promptly greeted by, believe it or not, two surprised-looking BABIES! Ten-month-old twins Madison and Matthew …
When he saw my hair, I got the impression that Matthew had initial concerns about his and his sister’s ability to help me …
Perhaps Madison had the same concern, but she tried to mask her feelings with a blank stare.
Nevertheless, the duo led me into their salon’s inner sanctum.
“I’m beginning to see a color scheme here,” I thought perceptively and intelligently.
Matthew and Madison took a moment to look through their style books to see what they might be able to do for me.
“This is definitely going to be a challenge,” they seemed to be saying.
I felt my first tiny jolt of trepidation when I realized they were looking at books about cows and sheep.
With determination set clearly upon their young but professional countenances, the twins indicated for me to help them up into their work spaces.
“An odd request,” I thought. “They don’t do that at the Barber Pole downtown.” But, the completely compliant client, I obeyed.
And for about sixty seconds, everything seemed to be going well. Just typical stylist assessment techniques such as cranial observation and exploratory scalp manipulation.
Then, inexplicably, I got the distinct impression that Madison was somehow asking Matthew to consult with the monkeys on the wall about the next step.
But before I had time to investigate, they got to work.
“This might be fun,” I thought, kinda smiling.
Madison gently massaged in soothing hair cream.
Healthy hair.
Then they both started to get a little rough, I thought, for ten-month-olds.
Seemingly out of the blue, I sensed a frustrated Matthew yelling to Madison, “Enough of this, sissy! There’s no way to help this old man!”
“Bite him!” she might have said.
“What going on here?!” I thought in terror. “Are they baby vampires or something? Nick at Twilight?! Whatever. I’m outta here.”
As Skedaddler and I hightailed it back to Savannah’s historic district where I live across from Colonial Park Cemetery, I looked in my rearview mirror and thought, “You know, gray’s not such a bad color. It’s kinda in-between.”
(Thanks to Grandtwins Matthew and Madison for help with this post. And the iPhone’s reverse camera.)
…at soccer camp and headed back to his house. Traversing up the driveway, discussing Skylander Giants, we both saw this at about the same time:
A small, dead, open-eyed possum in the neatly manicured front lawn. “Look, Abu! A big rat!” Daniel yelled, as he excitedly unbuckled his seat belt, careening toward the thing.
“I think it’s a possum, Daniel, and I also think he’s dead.” (WHY do I use verbs like “think” in times like this? The possum was dead as a doornail with bugs swarming around its head.)
“That means he’s not breathing,” Daniel explained to me.
“Why don’t you go in the house and cool off, while I get rid of our friend?”
“NO!” Daniel screamed. “We have to show it to Mommy!”
“Well, he can stay here for a few minutes.” (Like the possum was going somewhere.)
At about that time, Olivia and Larkin, the cute twins from next door, came running into the driveway, straight from a pool party. And of course, Daniel had to show them …
… explaining that the “rat, I mean possum, was dead and couldn’t move, so don’t touch it till Mommy comes home because we are going to show it to her.”
As I mentioned in the previous post, this past weekend brought two terrific parties, a street celebration Saturday night and then on Sunday afternoon the Sixth Birthday Celebration for my Grandson Daniel.
Before I escort you to Weekend Party Two, let me just explain that Daniel is one very COOL little boy. And here are Eight Sunglasses-Prominent Pics of D-man to prove it:
(With kindergarten teacher Ms. Lancaster)
(With little brother Gabriel)
Okay, maybe the twin girls froze him up a bit and reduced his coolness by a tad.
But NOT on his birthday. Here he sits, with his green faux hawk (aka fohawk) before his backyard party begins, “patiently” waiting for the Spiderman inflatable to blow up.
Almost there.
“I love it!”
Here’s Batman perched in the trees:
I have NEVER seen a balloon so huge. And the Spiderman pinata, ready to be lowered:
Soon the backyard fills with school and neighborhood friends.
A great hit at the party–the appearance of the folks and animals from Critters-to-Go. The kids (and adults) are fascinated.
“Okay, kids, now let’s all play with snakes!” (Neal’s first thought: “Is everyone here INSANE? What happened to the PRETEND superheroes theme?) Then out of the corner of my eye, I see courageous Batman hiding out in the trees away from all this.
Initially, Daniel’s not so sure. See? He’s a smart boy.
Most awkwardly funny moment of the holiday so far–wait, let me set the scene. We were in the incredibly beautiful and highbrow lobby of the Ritz-Carlton–Buckhead in Atlanta over the weekend. Just past these Dickensian carolers:
Resplendent Santa standing by the fireplace, creating a perfect Christmas tableau, with adoring children all around. Without warning and with great, earnest conviction, five-year-old grandson Daniel yelling, “He’s a Fake!” His parents threatening loss of Christmas coming.
I picked up Grandson Daniel (5) from school yesterday, and, hopping into his back seat, he excitedly showed me his just-completed Turkey Basket (well, that’s what he called it anyway). As I soon learned, the turkey project was two-fold: first the cute little construction paper turkey itself. But as you can see in the pictures below, the front housed a nifty envelope (basket?) which held little gratitude or thanksgiving cards. For each note, Daniel and his classmates completed the statement “I am thankful for ____ because …” for their family members.
What a joy! Little ones expressing their thankfulness so sincerely. Below Daniel explains to me that his plan for Thanksgiving Day consists of waiting till “all the guests” have eaten “some of their turkey” and then “hand out the slips.” And he did just that–for all fourteen of the folks at the table. His mom helped him with some of the spelling, but the sentiments were exclusively his.
Here’s mine:
“I am thankful for Abu (that’s me) because he helps with decorations.”
(Okay, maybe that sounds a bit strange, but the day before, we had decorated for Thanksgiving with some outdoor lights. And a month earlier we had carved two jack o’ lanterns.)
What Thanksgiving Joy! We really all do have so very much to put in our Turkey Baskets.
NealEnJoy 