My grandfatherness started ticking when a granddaughter crawled up beside me lugging a book titled "Grandmother's Alphabet." You know: Grandmother is everything from an Artist, who does so-and-so, to a Zookeeper, who does something else. It's a charming book, but what about Grandpa's ABCs?
Grandpa is:
- or so it seems next to a 4-year-old.
- rubber balls and soft plastic starfish from the Museum of Science are among items that bounce off him.
- he is asked to suggest but not decide what do we do now.
- he parleys with leash holders when toddlers start to run and shout, "Dog! Pet!"
- in his case this marketing term for people who seize on the latest thing refers to going online to buy toy ATMs for small girls.
- boy, does he like to say, "You're a real tree climber!" or "I didn't know you could count that far!"
- on the one hand, he tries to imagine what words a 2-year-old is referring to; on the other he keeps saying, "I guess you don't want any more," "I guess you didn't hear me," "I guess...."
- if he isn't playing peekaboo, he's hoping to be found under the kitchen table.
- you can tell him he looks like a grandfather, but he knows he's about 17.
- will someone save him before he bombs again? What one wall said to the other is one thing. But what do I have in this bag? The New York Philharmonic. Who's conducting? Granddad needs help.
- who else would say, "Maybe it's time to stop jumping on the bed and read about spilled milk that looks like clouds."