Rites of Spring

School is out for Spring Break so we’ve come to the time I’ve waited for since they were born. Both granddaughters are here for the week and both are at their prime cuteness. Both are potty trained and can open car doors. Thank you, Jesus. Sarah can even brush her own hair and Essie recently got a haircut that makes my life a lot easier. They’ve stayed with us enough that our house is a relaxing place for them. Just a whole week of everybody getting to do just what they want to do.

The first thing we do at Grandmother Camp is have a family meeting. Sarah is old enough to take notes of the meeting for us. Here is our list of what we want to do this week:

1. play games
2. learn to clean house (OK, that was my idea)
3. go to Chuck E. Cheese’s
4. bowling
5. sleep outside in the playhouse
6. go to library
7. e-mail Mom
8. pull tooth
9. build a campfire
10. fannie dance
11. blue bologna dinner
12. buy more grapes


So far, here at hump day, we’ve bowled, e-mailed her Dad, slept out at the playhouse and bought more grapes. Today we plan to go to Chuck E Cheese and maybe run by the library. We’ve bought a set of jacks and playing cards but just haven’t found time to play them. Their dad has taught them how to play Black Jack which if you think about it is really just a counting game.

Number eight has occupied a huge chunk of everyone’s attention except for Essie who really couldn’t care less if her sister’s tooth is about to come out. The first thing you need to know about Essie is that she lives in her own world and dances to her own drummer. And what you need to know about Sarah is that she is a Very Sensitive Child. Very. God help us all. Her mother was like this at seven so you’d think I’d be used to it. But it’s more like “I’ve served my time in hell. Dear God, please spare me this one.”

Sarah spent the past two days constantly wiggling the tooth and moaning over it. When it became too much of a distraction while she bowled yesterday she opted out of the game and let Essie bowl in her place. I kept making her go wash her hands after she put her tooth wiggling fingers in the very public bowling ball that God only knows who has been there before. So I’m not sure if she was upset by the tooth so much as it was Granny and her handwashing obsession.

So when the tooth finally came out last night no one was happier than me.

“It came out! It’s gone!,” she shrieked. “It’s gone! It’s gone! It’s gone!”

She danced around the house, clapping her hands and kicking her feet. We took a thousand pictures and discussed what the tooth fairy usually brings her for a tooth.

This whole time Beaven sat in his easy chair reading an electronics magazine with the cat asleep on his lap. After about the eight round trip dance through the house shrieking once again that

“It’s gone! It’s gone!! It’s gone!,” he finally muttered “Who’s going to stay with her through childbirth?”
“Not me. I’m going to Europe.”
Still another round of dancing and shrieking.
“No, China. I don’t think they have as many telephones there.”