Amazing Grandad

2005-02-14 - 2:16 p.m.

I sat down across the table from my grandfather. He leaned forward on his elbows, confidentially or conspiratorially it seemed, and asked, "were your ears burning yesterday?"

I quipped, "It wasn't me. Whatever it was, I didn't do it."

He grinned and told me that over coffee with his neighbors, they'd gotten talking/bragging about how smart their grandchildren are.

My brain shifted, first surprised since I hardly think I'm the smartest of us grandkids, then wondering what story he shared. I figured likely the fact that I'm about to graduate with honors after working on my degree for so many years or maybe something about my writing (my grandmother actually carries a poem I wrote in her handbag aww).

But no. Instead he told the story of when I was a little kid and he kept a tape recorder by his chair. He'd sit me on his lap and prompt me to tell him stories. I told him the now-famous story of Ableham Lincoln who lived in a cave, shot cornflakes for breakfast, and later had to hunt for a spoon with which to eat them. I also told him about my invisible dinosaur, Tramp, who lived in my backyard. He ate "Tramp food" and when he got sick, he "throwed up ALL over the place."

I can't tell you how much I love that that was the story he chose to share. Grandfathers are amazing.

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Pretend it's 10th grade. Leave me a note.

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