Sunday, August 7, 2022

C. Stroup: Kids will be kids, I guess

C. Stroup
C. Stroup

Since I’m exhausted from writing about, as well as hearing about, the COVID-19, I’m going to switch gears and bring you up-to-date on my grandkids!  Now you know therein will be some small bit of comic relief…even if it is at my expense.

Still harboring a fear of the disease, I told the kiddies that when they come to see me I’d have to put some restrictions on how to distribute hugs.  I asked that they be limited to my waist down, i.e. hip hugs.  Upon their arrival they charged into the kitchen at warp speed with arms open wide.  I was able to keep my balance and savor the sincere, if not a little frightening, demonstration of their affection.  It was glorious since we hadn’t seen each other in weeks.

Chaos always ensues as the kids are overly anxious to eat so they can go swimming.  Gabby, (so, what’s in a name?) the precocious five-year-old, asked me for a straw and so I went to fetch. Whenever my son and family come to visit, Brad stops at Chili’s and brings a wonderful assortment of finger foods and chips we all enjoy.  Most times, my daughter-in-law, Amy, orders a salad which comes with croutons.  Gabby consistently begs her mom for the toasted cubes.  Turns out I had some in the pantry and told her I’d share with her instead of her pestering Mom.  It took me a little while to find them but I was able to deliver what I’d promised.  Just as an elephant never forgets so too Gabby.  She smiled innocently (picture Shirley Temple, OMG I’m old).  With one hand on her hip and the other outstretched, palms up, she asked, “CiCi?  My straw?”  (Just too cute!)

As always, before the next day’s commotion ensues I spend a good part of the day gathering up any and all things that might be knocked over, fondled and then dropped and broken, accidentally bumped into and shattered and for sure make certain the cats’ toys are well hidden.  All three of the kids are allergic to cats so, of course, they cherish every opportunity to cuddle each and every toy with catastrophic results.  I’ve taken to making room for all the vases, ceramic knick-knacks, glass candle holders, candy dishes, etc. in the linen closet behind closed doors.  They fit nicely on two of the lower shelves, easy access, all in one place.  Out of sight ~ out of mind.

As I went to fetch beach towels for the brood I didn’t notice my Pied Piper status.  Hot on my heels came the pitter patter of several little feet.  Before I could avoid the inevitable, I was busted opening the linen closet door.  Trying to pile towels into the arms of my audience, high enough so they couldn’t see in front of them, I only managed to drop towels on the floor.  Gabby’s eyes grew wide as she spied the glistening glass goblets, votive candle vases, polished porcelain plates and assorted ceramic knick-knacks.  “I didn’t even know there was a door there!” she exclaimed in delight.  Much to my chagrin, this meant I was going to have to find a new hiding place where I could stash my stuff.

At this time I don’t have any tales to tell about my older granddaughter, Jaci, but there’s always tomorrow.  I do, however, believe that two-year-old Ryker Lee was indisputably responsible for a rascal rampage.  This took place in the living room away from adult eyeballs.  After the progeny had departed I found a lamp on the floor.  It was next to the couch where some pillows were disturbed due to the water gun tucked behind them.  On the other side of the room, an up light that illuminates an artificial tree was pulled out from behind a chair and unplugged.  I have to do acrobatics to get behind that chair to dust or vacuum.  It would take a small contortionist able to leap tall furniture with more than a single bound to complete this feat.  (Yep, this reference proves I’m definitely getting old).  All the evidence points to Ryker.  I hate to think I will need to remove my lamps as well as my knick-knacks for future visits.

Our cats have the right idea…when the kids come they’re filled with dread (the cats not the kids).  So the cats head for under the bed.  If a kid sticks his or her nose where it doesn’t belong, the cats will hiss and swat with claws that are long. Hmmm ~ that gives me an idea: a new hiding place for my prized possessions!  I wonder if there would be room for the lamps?

C. Stroup
Cindy Stroup is a Double Oak resident and has been contributing to The Cross Timbers Gazette for over 30 years. Read her column each month in The Cross Timbers Gazette newspaper.

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