Gramps and I have six grandkids codenamed Kevman, Blondie, Roper, Einstein, Git ‘R’ Done, and Ladybug. Some (or all of them), nieces, and assorted other kids show up on Fridays for an art lesson since most of them are home shooled.
Last art class, we made Valentine boxes. Later, Roper and Ladybug’s mom summed it up perfectly.
“Gosh,” she said, “it looks like a craft store threw up in here…”
Everybody had a wonderful time, but unfortunately, one of the laws of the universe states All Good Things Must End and one of the visitors, Sarah, aged 6.5 years (she’d want me to share that decimal), got into the vehicle with her Valentine box–and her mother–to leave.
Now, Gramps happened to be out in the yard working on his pickup, or something. (Doesn’t matter, take your pick from the fleet of old farm vehicles in the yard, they all need fixed.)
Sarah’s mom backed around in the driveway and Sarah leaned out the window, waving and smiling enthusiastically. Gramps is fond of little girls, so his old heart jumped for joy as he waved back at her.
“Bye, Frisco!” she yelled, craning her neck around Gramps for a better view of the grandkids’ Shetland pony.
Can anybody say, Awwww…poor Gramps?
Happy Valentines Day, Gramps, my valentine since I was SIX YEARS OLD! You still make my heart beat really fast. (At least, I think that’s you and not just the jalapeno peppers I’m not supposed to be eating.) I’d do the last thirty-one-and-a-half years of wedded bliss with you again without a second’s hesitation.
God bless all Y’all and enjoy Don Williams doing Gramps’ and my wedding song, Til the Rivers All Run Dry
*This artists doesn’t necessarily endorse my blog, I just like him.