Let me introduce you to the star of this blog. He is three and a half years old. He is one of the two grand-babies, I have had since birth, when their mother fell victim to her own choices. I must praise her for the wonderful choice she made, placing the boys with us. I am now 63 and my husband of 46 years, is now 67. Believe it when I tell you, our lives are full of joy. Most of the time!
The boys have a lot of energy. As a matter of fact, if there were a way to harness it, and put it in cars, there would be enough to fuel all of New York City!
At night, in self-defense, Jerry takes one boy to his bed and I take the other one to mine. The boys are not able to get up without supervision. I am smiling at our ingenuity at taking preventative measures!
Saturday night, Greyson, wanted to sleep with “Nemaw.” I tried not to shoot Jerry a dirty look when the baby made his choice. Though I did not look to see, I am positive, Jerry grinned from ear to ear when I nearly hyperventilated at the baby’s announcement. I’m a fair person, I knew it was only fair I took my turn sleeping with him, but I also knew it would be an adventure, so I took the little darling by the hand and we went to bed.
I put him on his side, on his pillow and I picked up my kindle to play a few games to unwind. Greyson, flipped end over end so he could watch. Ug! I knew that was a bad sign. Shazaam! With his ninja like speed he pushed a button and used my saved energy on my game. I grimaced.
“No, Greyson, you mustn’t do that!” I said patiently.
“Because its my game.” I replied, then handed him his.
“I don’t want this one, Nemaw, I want yours!”
“Not gonna happen, buddy.” said I.
Why on earth, can I not learn my lessons. When one tells a child no, there are always repercussions. He cried.
After a few seconds, He said, “Can I rub you back, Nemaw?
Hmmm, that might give me a minute to play my game, I thought, so I said, “Yes.”
“Nemaw, what is this on you back?”
I told him, “It’s a mole.”
“It is something God gives us to make us all unique, Greyson, kind of like a fingerprint.”
“If I pull it off, will you get widdle?”
What? That statement puzzled me. What does a mole have to do with weight loss? His next statement told me all I needed to know.
“If I pull it off, will it let all your air out?”
I burst out laughing and laid my kindle down. Clearly, I was not going to finish my game.
I said, “Get off my pillow now, Greyson, lie down on yours, I want mine. After I lie down, you can snuggle if you want.”
He said, “Can I lay on your pillow wif you?”
Thinking he meant, next to me, I said “Sure.”
He did a somersault and landed like a T-bone across my head. He landed on my hair, so hard it nearly jerked me bald-headed.
I was afraid for him to move again, so I adjusted to the tension on my hair and got really quiet, hoping he would doze off.
THUMP! His elbow cracked my across the top of my head. I didn’t lose consciousness but I wasn’t far from it. I heard a strange ringing sound, somewhere far off. When I thought I could talk, I started to ask him to move to his own pillow.
I was not fast enough. He rolled over, pulling out a few more strands of hair. Trying to get up, he placed his open palm on the side of my head, much like old-timey preachers used to do when they baptized a sinner.He then applied an enormous amount of pressure by placing all his weight on my head so he could get up. He pushed my head so far down in the pillow, I thought I was going to asphyxiate. Just in the nick of time, he got on his side of the bed.
He said, “Nemaw, you side ain’t bewwy comfurble. It hurt my elbow! My side is comfurble. Yours ran out.”
I totally agreed with him. My side ain’t bewwy comfurble!