grandparents

Here's a picture of my dad and John out on the patio last summer.

My parents were good parents, very good--pleasant, safe, reliable, patient, completely decent people.

But they are absolutely spectacular grandparents.  I think it's because as grandparents they cut loose in a way parents can not.

They're extravagant with these kids in every way I can think of, and they're funny.

My mom is the more gentle and supportive type.  My dad is the teaser.

Recently I heard about this joke he played on some other grandkids--not mine.

He does oil painting. He took this up as a hobby, and he told me it was specifically because he needed to cultivate some hobbies for his old age:   things he do can sitting down.

This made me scoff and laugh--hobbies for siting down--except it's very hard to learn oil painting, and not only has he persisted, he also gives tutorial lessons to the grandkids.

Well, this is the joke:  At a thrift shop, he found an oil painting of a beady-eyed dog, and to tease these kids, he brought it home and added some details to the picture.  He signed his name to it, and put birds flying in the corner and so forth. 

Then he sent it home to the kids--a painting I did of your dog.

The kids were conflicted.

It didn't look much like their dog.

What's with the beady eyes?

They tried to be diplomatic, but the as the story goes they frowned, and squinted, and scratched their heads, and looked at each other because it was just so weird.

I heard this story and laughed until I was holding my chest in pain.

I called him on the phone just to LAUGH and asked him, "What would you do if you didn't have grandkids to harass??"

He hooted, "Well then I'd have to harass YOU!"

Oh, thank goodness for the grandkids then.

This is  a picture from the past. That's my dad 30 years ago with John and Dan in his arms, Dan holding the little Vick's nose thing up to him.

Here's something really good to know--whatever laughs, hugs, meals, foolish crap you share with your grandchildren, just go for it. It's more important than it feels in a moment.

http://well--yeah.blogspot.com/2009/11/bobcat-story.html

http://well--yeah.blogspot.com/2009/11/speaking-of-my-dad-and-tim.html

http://well--yeah.blogspot.com/2009/11/someone-tiny-to-look-up-to.html

About this time, John asked my dad to go down to the basement with him so he could shoot the cap gun.  My dad said, "No, I think you might shoot me."

John said, "Nah, I'll only shoot you in the feet because you're old."  (My dad was 42.)

Oh, life is awful good, and yet you two have created some very big shoes to fill.   love you both so incredibly much, Val