Grandsons, God’s Blessings

Grandsons.  What wonderful and amazing creatures!  Let me tell you about mine.  Because they are, of course, wonderful and amazing.  

I went to visit the four younger ones not long ago to deliver a birthday present.  It was the oldest of the groups’ birthday and he accepted his present, which was what he had asked for, with grace and reserve.  He is a teenager now and tries to act mature and grown-up.  But his little brothers are, well…  they are still wild as March hares!

Sometimes, when I visit, we gather outside so the boys can run and play and shriek between visits with Grandma.  But during the cold weather, we are captive inside.  And the energy level is palpable.

On this particular visit, which was soon after Christmas, they all had to tell me about their Christmas haul.  They had received all kinds of goodies but one of the favorites had been a magic kit.

Soon, the middle child disappeared for a time, to reappear quite miraculously in his magician’s cape and top hat, wand, and other magic paraphernalia in hand.  He performed a few tricks with varying levels of success, spurred on by his brothers’ encouragement and criticisms.  Then he bowed and, poof, disappeared again for a while.

During his absence, I was royally entertained by my two youngest grandsons, who happen to be twins.  And they have no earthly comprehension of the term ‘personal space’!  They are all over me, right in my face, showing me their new watches, mauling me with their sharp little elbows and knees, hugging me until I think I might lose consciousness.

I do not mind this.  I am in my element and I love it.  I know this will end someday.  Before I even know what happened, they will be in that awkward teenage time when they won’t want to touch or be touched, when talking to Grandma will be one of the last things on their list, just after dying.  So, I revel in the attention and store up the memories.

Soon, this little love fest is interrupted by Middle Grandson, standing before me in a new beret. 

“I’m an artist, too!”  He announces.  He says it ‘ar-teest’, with a French accent.  

Beside me on the couch, his father snickers under his breath.  In retrospect, I think he knew what was about to happen.

Middle Grandson, MG for short, says he is a professional arteest.

I ask him if he knows what being a professional means.

He assures me that he does.  It means you get paid for your work.

I ask him, with a skeptical look, if he has actually sold any of his work.

“Well, no,” he grins.  Then he adds the punch.  “Not yet…”

Hummmmmm.  I’ve been had.

Still in his arteest beret, he assures me that he can make either a drawing or a ‘sculpture’ for me.  Or both….

Hummmmmm.

We negotiate a price and he takes off with the enthusiasm of a child who is about to get his hands on some cold, hard cash.

After a while, he returns with a piece of art paper on which he has drawn a scene with colored pencils.  And a 3D object that I am told is a cat.  I make over them as if they are precious, for they are, and, to his delight, money is exchanged.

I notice that Twin #1 (T1) is intently watching this interaction.  Twin #2 is intent on his legos.  Quickly, T1 disappears to his room.  Within minutes, he is back with something concealed behind his back.  

“I’m an artist too,” he announces.

Hummmmmm.

His father, again, snickers.  He enjoys his kids’ antics.  No doubt, he is remembering some of his own!

“Really?”  I ask and skip right to the chase.  “How much?”

His pudgy little hand comes out, palm up.  “One dollar,” he said confidently.

I handed over the money and only then did he produce the work of art; a small pencil drawing of various characters, tinted with colored pencils.  Diagonally, all across the middle of the drawing was scrawled his name.  Watermarked?  What have these kids been learning?

He is but a child – a baby, really – but he might be a businessman, too!

My grandchildren give me such joy.  I can never get enough of them and their silly, fun-loving ways.  Who knows what new things I will encounter when next I visit!  I’d better remember to stop at the bank before I go!

If you are a grandparent, tell me one of your favorite stories about your grandbabies.