Grampa's Little Helper

Kids pick up on everything we do.

Whether we like it or not.

And my Husby likes to build things.

These two facts will come together somewhere in this story . . .

As I was saying, my Husby likes to build things. Big things.

He made our dining room table.

Our games table.

Our birdcage and assorted other furniture.

A pirate ship.

Now, his big project is a cedar-log sunroom.

He does this because it’s . . . fun.

Moving on . . .

This project requires spending the days outside.

And making assorted loud noises.

Our kids grew up with Dad’s building projects and the accompanying rackets.

Our almost-two-year-old granddaughter who lives with us is just beginning to.

And she is adapting quickly.

Now, whenever there is a loud noise in the street (ie. Mower, weedwhip, atomic explosion) she gasps excitedly and says, “Grampa! Working!”

Yesterday, she learned something new.

Did I mention that Husby’s project keeps him outside all day?

Strawberry pals.

Oh, right, I did.

Perhaps I should emphasize the words OUTSIDE ALL DAY.

Because one can’t drag him inside, even for meals.

Occasionally, I will poke my head out the back door and ask, “How are you doing, Honey?”

But that’s the sum total of our ‘Husby-has-a-project’ communication.

Yesterday, my granddaughter and I were in the front room. Me, reading. She, plotting to overthrow the world.

Suddenly, she jumped down from the table where she was playing with the Playmobil castle and ran to the back door.

There followed the sounds of effort.

Then the squeak of the door.

Then a little voice, “How you doing, Honey?”

Who says they’re not watching.

And learning . . .

 

Can you see it? (Ignore the mess . . .)