The Grands
Every one of us lied like a no-legged dog. We swore up and down if we ever had grandkids, we would not spoil them like others through the decades have done. Wrong. How did that crow taste?.
There are sayings and stories out the wazoo about grandkids. Love ‘em. Spoil ‘em. Feed ‘em enough sugar to send adults into a diabetic coma. THEN, kiss them goodbye and send them back home to their parents.
For the last few days, we have been hosting my 4 grandkids: Jake’s three and Joe Claude’s one. You name it and we’ve done it. Pool, horses, baseball, cooking, beach and story telling.
Here’s a quick rundown: as soon as Jake arrived from Tuscaloosa with Jack (James Howard Bradford, IV) 12; Sebastian 9 and CC 3 ½, the fun began. Little CC (Cecelia) reminds us that she isn’t 3 but 3 ½. Naturally with Jack, he had to remind me that he brought an extra glove so he could show me his 5-pitch repertoire: fastball, slider, curveball, splitter and knuckleball. I have vowed that the day that I can’t still play pitch with my Grands, that’s the day that it’s about time to crank up the backhoe and tune up the instruments for my Farewell Party.
They sprinted to our pool before dinner. Seb had to show off his new swim strokes and CC’s middle name should be “fish.” She had to show SuSu and BB (as she calls me) that she could swim the length of the pool. Every grandparent has that ONE that we refer to in the South as a “pistol” or “spitfire.” That’s Cecelia.
Continuing with the “spoil” theme, like each of you, the Grands get to choose where we have dinner. The 4 voted unanimously for Japanese hibachi grill. When you have the opportunity to see cousins, brothers and grandparents interacting and laughing at the chef and his cornball jokes as he cooked, the cost of the dinner didn’t matter. “Yes, you can have the lobster.” “It’s ok to order the $22 spicy tuna roll AND the Shirley Temple drink.” That’s what we worked for all those years.
Yesterday morning, the 2 boys wanted to go to South Bay Stables where we keep our horses. Susan had a morning hair appointment, so I had the honor of handling the horse duties. The temperature (according to my truck’s dash reading) showed 107. That had to be wrong. It was HOTTER. As we approached our two Tennessee Walkers, Dan and Coco, in their pasture, they almost rolled their eyes as if to say: “You are kidding me aren’t you?”
Both boys really enjoyed assisting and learning the ins and outs of saddling a horse. Last week, Jack was at Camp Mac in Munford where they rode horses almost daily. The difference? The horses were already saddled when they got there. Sebatian learned a tough lesson about why you wear boots around horses. After the ride, we were hosing them down when Coco stepped on Seb’s foot and his crocks. He toughed it out. Like a true cowboy.
After having lunch with Joe Claude at 3 Sons BBQ on 30A, where he is the manager, we headed to Dune Allen Beach. Usually, the grandparents serve two purposes at the beach: 1. ATM machine. 2. Pack mule. Fortunately, we didn’t have to do either. Even though we live less than 10 minutes to the beach, we rarely go. Being in the surf with grandkids changes your outlook though. Young eyes look at you and forget that you are in your seventies. Boogie boards, skim boards and catching waves is something the Beach Boys and Jan and Dean sang about when we were teenagers.
Most of us hate those low beach chairs cause it’s so d*mn hard to get up out of them. Any minute, we are expecting some tree hugger wearing a “Save the Whale” t-shirt to ask if we need help. We decline and mumble something about their blowhole under our breath.
Of course, for dinner, since they are with us at the beach, the Grands wanted seafood. So, I cooked gumbo, boiled shrimp and corn. My youngest grandson, Seb, must have eaten at least a dozen or more shrimp and declared himself as the “Shrimp King.”
Since school starts back next week, this is their last Hurrah.
Think of all the things that each of you my age, has done for your Grands. I could name almost a dozen who actually sold their place and moved closer to the Grands to help babysit (code term for SPOIL), watch them play baseball, softball, hockey and cheerleading. We have sponsored countless teams, fundraisers and sat through every kind of weather just so they know why they are special.
That’s why they are called GRANDS.