I had a nice grandpa week. Got to spend time with the newest grandson, barely eight weeks old. He smiled when I held him, but it might have been gas. I think babies and old men have the same constitution. We like to sleep, be fed, and be rocked. And some of us, if we’re unlucky, need our diapers changed. Maybe my time will come. Who knows. A bridge to be crossed.
Of course, the other two grandchildren got their fair share of attention. After all, they can talk and go for walks. So, we did that too. I even got to spectate at a basketball game (granddaughter) and in-line hockey game (grandson), as well as a choir concert, featuring the granddaughter. Hockey is a new sport to the family, the son-in-law is a Mainer, a land of ice and snow. He plays hockey in his adult years just as I played basketball with my brother, as a young dad.
Now I’m back. The cats are mostly ambivalent to my return and there’s tall grass in the yard. Luckily, there’s no HOA to gripe. This morning, I’m off to do some grocery shopping as I slip back into my single old man routine and start planning my return to see the kids. It sounds devilish, but it’s simply a matter of picking a day and fitting it into my schedule, which, surprise, surprise I actually have, because I like to keep moving.
