Last week, my grandkids came down from up north just a few days before we hosted three folks from Mexico. So, I told my grandson I haven’t had time to blog lately.
“Write about us making s’mores in the backyard,” he said.
This picture is from istockphoto.com.
All the family left except for my grandson. The next day the married couple and one of their children’s godmother came to stay for six days. What did I discover? My grandson has been learning Spanish since kindergarten. What a delight!
My sister came over one day and she used her faltering Spanish so the ladies began using their less than perfect English. The man spoke more fluently than they did.
I learned hambre means hungry and hombre with a long o sound means man. I picked up a little of the language and before I knew it, they were off to their own country before Fall hit. I missed them when they left.
They departed just in time, because it feels like autumn is in a hurry to send chilly breezes this year. The married lady really felt the cold and it’s gone down a few more degrees in the short time they’ve been gone. My grandson visited when the rain stayed, so he only got a day or two to enjoy the outdoors. His siblings got more sun and opportunity to enjoy the playground and one took a walk in a creek.
So, last week because we weren’t sure if our town allowed a fire pit, we put charcoal in a family-sized grill with papers for kindling. The kids broke sticks in the middle to help the fire along. They’d gathered long sticks from trees and from those that fell to the ground.
My daughter brought chocolate candy bars, large marshmallows and graham crackers to make our s’mores. S’mores is short for “some more” because one makes you want two.
I taught my grandkids to use patience and hold their stick impaled marshmallow well above the fire so it would toast brown instead of being a black cylinder, burning hot-some encased in flames. Except for the middle child, he wanted a burnt one.
Their attempt to eat a marshmallow fresh off the grill burnt one of the kids before they comprehended the warning.
Now, another grandchild is staying with us for a few days for Grandpa time. She asked my husband to buy flowers for me, and so he did. I let her try her hand at pouring pancake batter and then flipping them when it was time.
Each grandchild brought their unique personalities and interests to enliven our summer. My husband took each child out for a meal to a local restaurant and her turn is tomorrow.
Tonight, my husband told me she wanted to invite me to come along. She’s an early riser, so she told me I’d have to get up before my normal time. I said, “I can do that.”
When we prayed after she got tucked into bed, I went to give her a kiss on the cheek, just as she turned her head. “Grandma, you got my ear!”
“That’s gross,” I said.
“I know it; it had a booger on it.”
Kids, you gotta love ‘em.
May God bless you.