I love my grandson. It's great to see how much he is
learning. I simply adore his sloppy kisses and running hugs. I wouldn’t trade
the days spent with him for the whole world. But there are times when I think this used to be easier. I watched as many as six kids at a time and didn’t
feel as overwhelmed as I do now with one. Is it just that I was a quarter of a
century younger then? On Wednesday we went out for lunch. Halfway through
the meal he pitched a fit over which of us should hold the spoon. He lunged for
the table, grabbed an open bottle of milk that should have been beyond his reach, and
flung it at an innocent bystander. So yesterday we had lunch at home. We shared
one of summer’s sweetest pleasures: fresh garden peas. My grandson took to them like a
duck to water. Then he fed the empty pods to the dog, who promptly threw up on
the new carpet. Some days you just can’t win.
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