We just returned two of our adorable grandchildren to their rightful owners! This past week, Pops and I had the fun of keeping Harrison (age 4) and Hannah (age 2) to give Helen a chance to recover from the birth of little Hartley. What a blast! The week was a contest to see who could get the dirtiest and the hottest. Simply put, there are things that little kids can do in the country they can't do in the city, such as...
Going to the dirt pit (which Harrison used to call the arm pit). This refers to the big hole in the ground that Pops uses to get dirt for maintaining the roads throughout the property, and it is—literally— a big dirt pit. Nothing amuses the kiddos more just now than stripping off everything but their underwear and playing in the red dirt. The walls of the pit are sloped at just the right angle for sliding down and climbing back up again. The dirt clods are just the right degree of firmness to throw and explode at the bottom of the hole. The loose soil has just the right moisture for digging with the fingernails, and the powdery dust is just right for sticking to the scalp. The quarter-mile walk to the pit is always exciting and promising, but the same walk back home is hot and challenging. I got the brilliant idea to take the red wagon with water for us to drink. What I discovered was the kids thought I brought it so I could pull them back home. At one point, I was trying to make it up a steep hill in the woods with both children riding in the wagon and I didn't think I'd make it. About that time I heard Harrison call out, "Lollie! You can DO it!!" Well of course I did!
I was the favorite grandparent only until Pops decided to upstage me by taking them to "swim." The place he chose was safe, for sure. It was a BIG muddle (a made-up word for "mud puddle")! Actually, it was a pool of clear water that had collected in a field road where the irrigation system was running, but it soon became a muddle when the kids got in it! They first waded, then wallowed, then started throwing globs of mud at Pops and each other! I took a picture on my phone and sent it to Clint, their father. He replied, "Brings back memories!" When I sent him another picture of Hannah, whose diaper was so filled with muddy water that it sagged below her bottom, he responded, "Just make sure this doesn't hit Facebook!"
Bedtime was, umm...interesting. They wanted to sleep together in the recently acquired red twin beds, pushed together. It didn't take me long to realize that they were never going to settle down by themselves, so Pops and I lay down with them and I told them a made-up story about two children going to visit their grandparents. They loved it, and wanted to hear it several times. The last time I made up a story for Harrison, he thought I was saying that a little boy got buried alive, and that wasn't what I said. Now their parents are a little suspicious of "Lollie's stories." (I never wanted to be a children's writer anyway!) Anyhow, I kept this one PG rated!
If anyone should ask Harrison, he might say the highlight of his week was helping Pops drive the big tractor, operate the levers on the grapple hook and pick up piles of limbs. Or he might say catching two toad frogs, a baby and a larger one, plus a cricket was the epitome. He named the frogs Rufus and Oscar.
Maybe this was the week that I started to complete the metamorphosis from "mother" to "grandmother." I am seeing how much fun it can be. Burt and I thanked God every day that we can relax in the joy that our grandchildren are being reared by parents who love the Lord.
