Standing in the doorway, surveying the mess that had been perfectly clean minutes ago.
My grandchildren, Jenny and Tip, were fighting over a yellow ball. It didn’t seem to matter that I could see at least three other seemingly identical yellow balls in the piles of toys that were now around the feet of the one and three-year olds.
Jenny was yelling, “Let go, it’s my ball! Let go!” as she attempted to wrench it out of the vice grip of her brother’s hands.
Her brother, not big on words yet, but huge on talking nevertheless, was saying, “Uh! Uh! UH, UH, UH!!!” with the occasional “Geeee!” stuck in, which is his baby pronunciation of “Jenny.”
I had literally just stepped into the kitchen long enough to get them some juice. For a moment, I was actually awed at how much chaos they had accomplished in so little time, and so quietly! But then, the altercation to sort out, not to mention the clean-up to do, all crashed in on me and I thought, “I’m getting too old for this.”
But, as I stood watching, I suddenly remembered they’re babies! They have about a hundred years ahead to learn that stuff. And I’ve already learned it all, I can take a little break, right?
So, I went back to the kitchen and quickly grabbed the corn puffs. Then ran into the room yelling, “Corn Puffs!” at the startled kids, and threw a handful at them! The ball was immediately forgotten. We made a mess! We had so much fun! I did vacuum before the parents got home... not sure what I would of said if the subject of the almost empty corn puff bag came up (thankfully, it didn’t.)
You know, maybe I’m not too old for this after all :)