Here’s a recent summer memory for you:
Grandparents are just the answer for working parents during the long days of summer.
Our small condo doesn’t offer a big backyard, but the community swimming pool made all the difference to entertain our two grandsons during an overnight visit. The boys could hardly wait to show me their new tricks they had learned at their swimming lessons.
The younger seemed especially proud of his new skill at jumping in without having to hold his nose. He now could “hum” to keep water from surging up his nostrils. The older boy demonstrated his new skill in doing the crawl taking gasps between strokes. Their dives progressed as each boy took the proper stance bent over with lowered head and outstretched arms. The problem came with the absence of the push off with their feet, resulting in painful belly flops.
After they had showed off their tricks, the boys went on to play with the other children gathered there. The peaceful atmosphere heated up when a resident’s grandson arrived, looking quite professional attired in goggles and fins. He dove into the deep end making hardly a splash and continued to demonstrate his superior status as a swimmer extraordinaire. I observed this, curious to see the reactions of my novice swimmer grandsons. Their responses were as diverse as their personalities.
Our six-year-old reacted as if insulted by this newcomer’s expertise. When they became acquainted, he challenged his new friend by interrogating him on his abilities.
“I know how to dive, too. Can you swim without holding your nose? You call that a cannon ball? Watch this! ”
The youngest then chose to spend his time with another child more his age. They had fun “diving” and doing cannonballs.
The ten-year-old took a different approach with the domineering pool-mate. My older grandson asked this expert swimmer to give him pointers on how to do his crawl stroke and maintain his breath going down to the bottom of the deep end. I was amused by my older grandson’s patience with his new friend. They played the pool-tag game Marco Polo with my grandson being “it” the majority of the time.
The new friend instructed, “No, you have to be “it” three times.” Then, the friend advised, “No, you had your eyes open. That doesn’t count.” Later he insisted,” You can’t get me now. I’m on the steps. They’re base.”
“Marco. . .” my grandson called with eyes closed.
“Polo” the other boy replied.
It seems that the rules concerning Marco Polo were ever-changing as long as the new acquaintance remained in charge. His buddy balked when my grandson finally tagged him. After he lost, the expert swimmer’s interest in the game disappeared and he went to find another friend to dominate.
Finally, we left for dinner at the condo and I satisfied two voracious appetites with hot dogs and beans. Their time in the pool made for a relaxed night of watching TV and when “lights out” came, they slept soundly on their makeshift beds on the sofa and easy chair in the living room.
Our older grandson volunteered to make pancakes for breakfast, so I awakened him the next morning to perform the task when his grandfather started asking for food.
“Gramma, can you mix it up for me? I always get the batter too thin. ”
I went to work on the batter and then heated up the griddle. It thrilled the boys when I showed them how to sprinkle a few drops of water to test if it was ready.
“Wow, Gramma, let me do that!” Sizzle, sizzle.
“Me too, Gramma, I want to try it, please.”
I thought for a while we would never get the pancake cooking started. My magic trick delivered a real hit!
I wasn’t sure of the extent of our little chef’s skills, so hung around to assist if necessary, but he seemed to know his way around a griddle. I stepped back and let him have at it.
It wasn’t long before all at the table were served except for the cook. When Grandpa asked for seconds, the little chef’s chest swelled and he happily complied with the request.
I cooked bacon to go along with our pancake banquet, so when breakfast had been consumed, the kitchen surfaces and floor lay beneath a patchwork of batter, dirty dishes, utensils and bacon grease. But our beginner cook’s face brimmed with a sense of accomplishment, which made the mess worthwhile.
Simple pleasures of childhood during summer vacation can be the substance of memories long held and the means of building character while growing closer to grandparents. Praise God for pool-time and pancakes!
Dianna
Sharing the Fruit of Maturity
