This is a shot of my grand-daughter Sophie playing baseball a couple years ago. Notice how many players are coming in to make the play. (the boy on the right eventually gets the baseball glove off his head.)
Now look closely where the ball ends up... She stopped the ball, that's what counts. If she hadn't stopped it, I am sure they would have been pile of players behind her smashing down on it.
The Millenials, including our grandson, Slade, are born digital. They instinctively know how to use technology. Slade, for example, who in this picture is 11 months old, doesn't need any instructions on how to use a computer. It has a seat, and a back -- climb on, sit down and get plugged in.
I never was much good swinging on those handles. When I see kids doing this with such deft and ease, I get jealous. Not jealous enough, mind you, to want to jump on one of these playground contraptions and risk wounding my body and pride.
Who do you suppose would have jumped the farest if the glass had not been there? I suppose the iguana and our grandchild Sophie, would have both set a world record. Right there in downtown Houston at the Aquarium.
Sometime back, we were at a concert in the courtyard by the Old State Capitol in Baton Rouge, LA. I don't know if this is a common occurrence, but many of the kids were splashing in the ponds and fountains. It was great relieve from the heat, I am sure. This young man took it up a notch, lying in the water and leaning over the waterfall. It was not long, though, before dozens were as immersed in the water as the adults were immersed in the music.
Our grandkids came to visit a while back and their friend, Jenna Anderson, took them to see her FFA project -- Randy the goat. Sophie gets in close for a kiss. Do you close your eyes when you kiss a goat?
We ran into Indiana Jones at the mall in College Station. TX, this weekend. (Actually, he prefers to be called Dr. Jones, if you please.).
From the look on our grandson's face (I mean Dr. Jones' face) you can tell he was letting his imagination and his energy run wild in the play area. He has the whole garb -- the whip, the hat, the khakis, the Crocs (Dr. Jones does wear Crocs doesn't he?) and the case (do not call it a purse, handbag, satchel or anything like that, if you don't want to feel the crack of a deadly whip!).
This is his daily garb now. You are probably thinking that he got this as a Halloween costume. Actually, he got it before Halloween and began the daily drama immediately. When his mother went to ask him "Do you want to dress up as Indiana Jones for Halloween?" he was quick with the retort. "Mom, I AM Indiana Jones. You can't dress up for Halloween as someone you are!"
YOU probably would've known better thnt to ask that silly question. Wouldn't you? Never mind, I know you better than that.
My daughter is wondering where he got this drama streak. I was not brave enough to tell her that when she was just a little older than he is, she decided she was going to be the first kid astronaut. I decided I needed to "manage her expectations" in the parlance of today. I said very politely, "You know, Vicky, they don't have any kid astronauts."
She didn't miss a beat -- she popped a pose, arms akimbo and head bent in that "I can't believe what my dumb dad just said" way.
"Of course not, " she said "If they did, I couldn't be the first one."
Okay, you have climbed and climbed. You've justled and pushed. You bounced past all those other water drops. You're at the top. You've won. Now it's time to look down. Let gravity have its way. You've had your day. It's time to let go and find your destiny below. Don't hit the ground in vain. Push and bustle your way down to smash on your target. Find a kid. Splash him. Grand style. Do it.
Waiting for dad to come by at the Houston Marathon a couple weeks ago, this young lad took advantage of a nearby hill for some play time. However, with his placard in hand, he seems to be practicing for some oratory. "Friends, Houstonians, countrymen, lend me your ears..."
Guess what my grandson Sullivan got Papa for Christmas?
He does his own shopping at the dollar store and it is a real pleasure to see what he picked out for each one in the family. Every one of his presents has a real connection to the person receiving it. For instance, guess why Papa got this?
You're way off. I am sure this is so I can find clues.
Elaborate costumes are everywhere at the Texas Renaissance Festival just outside Houston each spring. This young lady lives her dream as princess or maybe dutchess. That is what the festival is all about -- you are your dreams. You wake up in the 16th century. Remember those good ole days?
A quiet room. Subdued light. A comfy stroller. A tired child.
Adds up to a cozy nap.
We were at a open-house/Saints-game party that my brother-in-law Bob was having this past Sunday in New Orleans. Meanwhile, my granddaughter Sophie made use of this back room bedroom of the Chippewa Street home.
I guess they should add that to the sales brochure. "Marble counter tops, renovated wood floors. Bedroom comes pre-dreamed-in . . ."
By the way, the dreams were considerably better than the game.
You're big now. Four-years-old. Nearly a man. It's time to take the big leap. Grab that motorcycle by the handle grips and leave the bounds of earth. Mother Earth. Cut the strings. It may be only for a second or two, but you are flying into a place where only clouds and eagles live.
Again and again. Around and around. Almost seems like a ride at the fair. Almost.
Our grandson Sullivan shows how it's done. Who would have thought that out of all those motorcycles, he would get the fastest, meanest, highest-flying of the whole bunch? Who would have thunk it.
Okay. Here's the scenario. You take a large tube and spin it and then tell a bunch a kids to walk through to the other side. I suppose the idea is to give them a sense of what their clothes go through in the dryer. Anyway, it turn instantly into a jumble of arms and legs and body parts that come flying through.
The scene is a fair in the parking lot of the mall in College Station, Texas.
Bread always falls butter side down. The parking spot is always on the other side of the street. Laws of the universe. Another law of the universe, seldom cited, is that when a ersatz cowboy climbs aboard his steed on the merry-go-round for the first time, he will always choose the wildest stallion in the bunch. He'll have to hold on to tight to bring his speeding galloper under control.
Our grandson, Sullivan, stills his steed with the a steady hand and a fancy footwork. The ride goes on. The scene is at a parking lot fair in College Station, Texas
Uncovering secrets. Don't tell. It's dark, nobody will notice. You remember when you were a kid and were just so fascinated with things, that sometimes it was worth getting in trouble just to find out what made that fancy Christmas gadget work. Here, Our grandson, Sullivan, does a a covert operation in stealth mode in the darkness.
Paw Paw sits in the shadows unnoticed, gathering photographic evidence.
Our grandson, Sullivan, is excited and at the same time unsure, as an elephant gets a little nosy. Still, the rest of the day he kept talking about how he and his Nanny touched the nose of an elephant at the Texas Renaissance Festival near Plantersville (don't ask me where we were, just go to their web page).
It was and exciting day seeing, jousting, and knights and a medieval sights of every variety.