Spent the afternoon with my sweet four year old grandson. He cracks me up. He sits next to me while I am writing on the laptop and just chatters away. He talked about how he loved his Mom. I told him when his Dad was his age, he always said he wanted to marry me when he grew up. Shep looked at me with amazement and said “Now that’s just weird.”
Guess he doesn’t feel quite the same. And time clearly has not been kind to me.
The rest of the afternoon:
He drank juice.
He played with a flashlight. (“Nana, I want to go someplace dark.” For a horrible minute I thought he was having a breakdown.)
He had a Rice Krispie treat.
He played kiddie computer games.
He had a lollipop.
He played with Playdough.
He had ice cream.
He watched TV and played with Legos.
By the time his dad came to pick him up, he was tired. “Come on, bud, pick up the Legos.” my son said. I was putting Shep’s sneakers on and he whispered to me, “I don’t want to pick up the Legos.” So I whispered back to tell his Dad I was playing with the Legos, so I would pick them up. Sometimes you need your Nana to cover for you.
With a totally straight face he said to his father, “I wasn’t playing with the Legos, it was Nana Cooper. But she needs help picking them up because it is hard for her to walk. So you have to do it.”
Is this kid brilliant, or what?
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