Life with little Charlie, my Grandson

Summer Vacation

2011-05-31T22:23:00.000-05:00

School vacation is in full swing. Charlie hasn't quite got the hang of SLEEPING IN.

This morning he woke me up at 0-dark-thirty. I told him to go to his room until daylight. A few minutes later he came back and woke me up- by throwing the cat on me. The yowls and claws woke me up, but my reaction taught Charlie he should have let me sleep.

He had his first T-ball game today. He did OK. When I say he did OK I mean he didn't hurt anybody or make them cry, except the coach was a little shook up. He'll be OK. Charlie hit the ball a couple of times and drew a nice mural in the dirt with the toe of his shoe. He ran for the ball three times and for the bathroom seven times.

P.S.- After the game there was a spot of blood on his uniform shirt. It's not his, and I've learned not to ask too many questions.

His-Story

2011-05-17T22:00:00.000-05:00

Charlie came home from Kindergarten excited that he was learning about the presidents. I asked him what he learned about them.

"I learned President Lincoln and a bad guy were watching THE GAME and the bad guy shot him in the head. Then he jumped from the balcony and broke his leg."

Close Enough.

P.S.- He thinks the British officer on "Pirates of the Carribean" is George Washington.

Little Mister Doctor

2011-05-17T12:01:00.001-05:00

Yesterday I commented to Grandma that I had a headache and thought my blood pressure might be high. Charlie got a sly look. "That's why you scream at me and make me cry." Grandma's ears perked up. "When do I scream at you and make you cry?", I asked. Charlie glanced to make sure Grandma was listening. "You scream at me all of the time."

Charlie could barely conceal a smirk as Grandma started glaring at me.

B-ball

2011-05-10T22:35:00.000-05:00

Charlie wanted to play basketball in the church parking lot. I agreed, and was proud I was able to take the ball away from a Kindergartener.
Charlie got mad and kicked the ball. When I commented on his lack of sportsmanship he said, "I don't make the rules. I just follow them."
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Tonight at supper we were discussing what we needed from the store. Charlie said he wanted a toy fishing set. Grandma said no. Without hesitation Charlie said,"You just move out of the house and I'll be the boss and get a fishing pole." Bad choice.
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We were wrestling the other night and Charlie hit his head on the floor. He said, "Thanks Grandpa. Now my brain will make me do bad choices."

Update

2010-02-12T19:04:00.000-06:00

As we just moved I've been out of the blog biz awhile.

During dinner Charlie told Grandma, "I'm gonna be a Grandpa when I grow up." I swelled with pride. Then he added, "Not an old Grandpa, though." He thought a second and said, "I'll be a doctor and fix Grandpa." Pride goethe before a fall.

When I asked Charlie what he had for lunch at daycare he said, "cupcakes." I replied, "I don't believe you." He came back with, "Papaw doesn't believe anything!"

Late one Night....

2010-01-19T11:35:00.000-06:00

I don't know where he got it: Either preschool, or daycare, or at his lodge meetings. It was charming at first but now it's just painful.

When we take a trip of more than 4 blocks, Charlie announces story time. We each have to take a turn, and they all have to start with "Late one night when everything was quiet." He'll say something like, "A blue bear ran after the jeep and caught us and ate Papaw. The end." Then it's grandma's turn.

Grandma will say something like "Late one night when everything was quiet Charlie got ice cream because he was a good boy. The end." Charlie will say; "Good story, Grandma. Your turn, Papaw."

I'll tell a real story with plot twists, morals, and inspiration. My story would be worthy of a film at Sundance. James Cameron would kill for my story. Charlie will pause, and say; "Bad story, Papaw. Try again." And I will.

Each of the seventeen times I tell a story, Charlie will not be impressed and will have me try again. Finally, I'll say something like; "Late one night when everything was quiet Charlie got a spanking and had to go to bed. The end!"

Charlie will say; "You tell bad stories. Grandma, your turn."

And so it goes.

The Great White North...

2010-01-14T09:04:00.000-06:00

Congratulations are in order-for me. I survived what we in the mid west call "snow days". These are days that give the schools an excuse to close. The daycare closes too, which is just cruel. Work does not close. Ergo, parents have to take off work so they can be locked in a house with their progeny. Yuck.

Charlie was out of school those 3 days. I know because I received an automated telephone call from the principal at 3:30 AM. These calls upset me to the point I was unable to go back to sleep. It worked out. though. The phone woke Charlie up and he was geared to go.

After 3 hours of Spongebob my brain was jelly and Charlie "got an idea" to go out and play in the snow. I was too addled to object, so we bundled up and went out. The wind chill was about 40 below, but Charlie didn't even feel it. The weather was too cold to make a snowball but we tried anyway.

I guess it was my idea to shovel the drive and walk. It warmed me up some, so we shoveled for the neighbors as well. After the third house, Charlie was ready to go in. My frostbitten feet thanked him and we hobbled in the back door. Heat never felt so good, at least until the stinging pain began as my frozen flesh started to thaw.

NOTE: Do NOT put wet gloves in the microwave to dry. They burn.

Hot chocolate is perfect after a romp in the snow. It's perfect until the sugar kicks in on a five year old. He sort of bounced off of the walls for about 6 hours.

Day two was much the same. The wind had replaced all of the snow we'd shoveled so we shoveled it again. This time I replaced the Cocoa with hot water. It didn't taste as good, but Charlie was calmer.

Day three was much different. I could not move without intense pain. Snow shovels coupled with babysitting causes severe back pain. I literally spent the day in the recliner moaning except when I was yelling at Charlie, "Do not put the cat in the dryer.", and "Pick up your toys. I need a path to the bathroom.".

Note: A five year old will jump on you while you're limping to the potty. They are also surprised when you scream in pain.

My advise? Move to the south until the kids are grown. Just make sure you're not in a hurricane zone. I hear they close the schools for hurricanes.

Wii Little Brat

2010-01-01T21:27:00.000-06:00

I learned something this week. I learned that kids do not go to school around the holidays and they are underfoot and irritating. I also learned that they like video games.

I set Charlie up on the Wii. After I spent about an hour trying to make it work he took the controller from me and had mastered the golf and baseball games in five minutes.

He wanted me to play baseball with him, and it looked fun so I gave it a shot. I took the controller that he programmed for me and swung it like a bat to hit the virtual ball he threw. Strike. Charlie giggled and threw again. Strike 2. Another virtual throw, and I was out.

We changed sides after his perfect inning, and he proceeded to hit everything I threw. This is by a kid, barely 5 years old, that has NEVER played baseball.

Charlie looked at me with a mix of pity and disdain. "I'll play by myself Papaw."

I bet I could take him in tennis if he'd only give me a chance.

Charlie Update

2009-12-29T08:25:00.002-06:00

We were walking into Walmart. Charlie grabbed Grandma and pulled her out of the road. "Grandma, you might get run over", he said. "Then we'll have to get a new Grandma". I asked him if I get to pick the new Grandma, but he said he gets to pick. Darn it.

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Charlies new thing: When you go into his room, he says, "Welcome to my room. These are my toys, and my new bed." No more HGTV for him.

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I've found that when I'm at my best, Charlie thinks I'm an idiot. When I'm the most inept, Charlie thinks I'm the coolest ever. Let me give you a couple of examples.

- Charlie got a train set from Santa (and Visa). I'd read the instructions carefully, and was ready to assemble the 8,253 microscopic pieces. I was completing it at a speed that would thrill a bald redneck factory manager, but Charlie wasn't impressed. He kept trying to take the job from me, and when I protested he rolled his eyes as if to say " stupid old Grandpa". He was surprised I completed it at all.

- We were cruising down the Dale road the other night and out of nowhere, splash! I'd driven into water that was over the road, which is a very bad thing. I immediately reverted to a string of words I'd learned in the service as I dropped the Jeep in four wheel drive and eased my way out of the newly formed lake. With my adrenaline hitting an all time high, I heard Charlie laughing in the back. "Cool, Papaw. Do again. Do again!" We will never do that again. Charlie did learn a lot of new words, though.

I guess when I try to teach Charlie I could poke myself in the eye occasionally to keep him admiring me.

A Guide To Church

2009-12-21T07:59:00.004-06:00

Papaw can't write today. He needs a little rest. Last time I looked, he had a cool rag on his head and was talking to himself.

My name is Charlie. I'm five years old. I'll write to you today.

What to do at church:

If your grownups make you go to church, like mine do, I can help you get through it. Just follow these simple steps.

1. If you stay close to your grownup when you go in the foyer, it will feel confident and start talking. Count to 3, then move away real quiet. Look for any tables, shelves, or drawers. Sometimes these things hide candy. Try to find a paper that grownups sign their names on. They use these to volunteer to do important things. There is only one copy so wad it up and put it in your pocket to color on later. This is a good place to stick your tongue out at a girl. Don't get too close because they have cooties.

2. Follow your grownup to the pew. Try to get an aisle seat in case you need to escape later. Sit quietly until church starts. Now, it's opposite time. When they stand, lay down. When they sit, stand up on the pew. When they sing, try dancing on your seat. When the grownups pray, count to 5, then drop a song book from real high to the pew. Watch for people to jump. It's funny.

3. Look for a little old Grandma. Get her attention. Give her a big smile. If she smiles back, run to her pew and give her a big hug. She may smell like old people, but you'll get candy or some money. On your way back to your seat run into the aisle and do a little dance.

4. Crawl. When the mood strikes you, get on the floor and crawl away. This causes a big uproar. Nice.

5. Look at your grownup. If it has a red face and bulging eyes, say "I love you." and give them a big hug. Sit quietly until they relax, then repeat steps 2 through 5.

I hope this helped. If you follow these simple steps you'll learn to love church as much as I do.

Grandfather's Remorse

2009-12-18T15:01:00.002-06:00

Believe it or not, it JUST occurred to me that my Grandson is not like the others. I woke up from a much needed nap (see previous post) with a picture in my head of Charlie at Taekwondo class. All the other little children were sitting in line, cross-legged and placid. Charlie was doing somersaults. Another picture flashed. The kids were standing, at attention, and doing a respectful bow at the end of class. Charlie was spinning on one foot.

And so it goes. I'm sure the other Grandpas make fun of me. Mothers probably hide their children as we come by. Cars perform illegal u-turns to avoid going by us when we walk down the street.

As I think about it, I wouldn't have it any other way. Any kid will misbehave once in a while, but only Charlie can do it with STYLE.

Attack of the Manic Pre-schooler

2009-12-18T08:49:00.005-06:00

0300 hours: Reveille. Sort of like in the service but my drill sergeant never grabbed my face and yelled; "Papaw, time to get up." I sat up quickly, and when I could focus enough to see the clock told Charlie to go back to bed. He did, so I settled back into sweet slumber.

0315 hours: It's back. "Papaw, is it time now?"

I rolled out of bed and stumbled out of the bedroom turned barracks.

Charlie started hopping across the dark living room. Each bounce sounded like a distant mortar exploding. "Let's watch cartoons. I want cereal. Wanna play cars?"

"Go to bed.", I growled. With the effort required to overtake a small country I marched him back to bed. I warned him that Santa was watching and was getting pretty upset. As he feigned sleep, I sat on the couch, waiting to intercept him when he sneaks out of bed. I nodded on and off to a five year old's rendition of "Special Agent Oso".

0600 hours: Can't sleep. I'm sure the opposing force will attack at any moment. As I resolve myself to wakefulness, it awakes....

Battle plan: Tonight every time he dozes off, I'm going to poke him. We'll see how early he wants to get up tomorrow!

2009-12-16T11:08:00.000-06:00

From a previous e-mail I sent>Out of the mouths of babes: A woman walked by us, and Charlie said (loudly) "Papaw, somethings wrong with her." I asked what, and he replied "Her butt is really big." - And it was.

Charlie takes Taekwondo in Carmi. Though the instructor is a black belt he is unable to pry a four year old off of his neck. Charlie- 1, Karate- 0.

When I picked him up at the babysitter today, she was a little red faced. He'd went to her in the kitchen and said "Woman, where's my food." I think the food was nowhere after that.

Our church has a weekly youth group. They're very good with kids but not very fast. Charlie escaped and made it home and into the house with the Preacher chasing him. She (the Preacher) handled it well and did not curse openly.

Charlie and I getting in trouble with Grandma is usually preceded by the phrase: "Papaw, I got an idea."

I've taught him how to use a drill and a screw gun. Don't ask how that works for my walls.

Charlie's father died last summer. For some reason he's been telling people "My Daddy's in jail."

2009-12-16T11:02:00.000-06:00

This is from a previous e-mail: ******************************

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Today we went to visit at a St Louis hospital, and the trip to the 4th floor was uneventful. After a 9 second visit little Charlie was done (as was I) so I generously offered to take him for a walk. We returned to the elevator, and while we were waiting he noticed a small sign that showed flames.

"What's that, Papaw?" he asked. I replied that it meant not to use the elevator if there is a fire.

I don't know how he misheard me, but when the elevator arrived he would not go in. " I don't want to catch on fire!" is all he would say. I explained again to no avail. I begged. I threatened, I even tried to carry him into the elevator, which resulted in my shins becoming bruised. A doctor tried to get him in, and not even a pretty little blond nurse could persuade him to get in the elevator.

I gave up and purchased a soda out of the nearby machine. Charlies' eyes lit up at the prospect of a drink. Aha!

I baited him just like the carrot and donkey cartoon, right into the elevator.

After about 40 seconds of screaming (his) he decided the elevator was OK and we had no further problems, other than the security guard.

Thank God I didn't have to take the stairs!

2009-12-16T10:17:00.000-06:00

The evening ritual at our house is dinner, then we play cars or "fight" as Charlie calls it. His idea of fighting is to jump on me repeatedly until I go hide in the bathroom or Spongebob comes on.

Last night during the "fight" my attention was drawn to the TV news. Big mistake. A 50 pound 5 year old jumping from the arm of a couch will impact a cheekbone with the approximate force of a cannon ball at point blank range. The degree of swelling I endure verifies the equation.

When he landed on the body part previously known as MY FACE I yelled, something like "Ouch", or "Oh my God, please help me." Charlie ran to Grandma and tearfully told her I'd yelled at him.

Grandma came into the room where I was curled up in a fetal position. "Did you yell at him?", she growled. I tried to talk but was in to much pain. Taking this for yes, she snapped; "Don't!".

Poor Charlie. Such a trauma he suffered.