Monday, August 28, 2006
The Grandkids Visit
Today I'd planned to finally explain my dear husband's part in why I'm writing this blog. But it is not to be. My grandkids are visiting me for the week and I doubt I'll be able to peck out more than a dozen coherent sentences on this newfangled laptop Carla lent me. Mine decided to give up the ghost. Again. I'm beginning to think whoever built these contraptions ought to stand trial for the robbery of the public.
One paragraph and my thirteen-year-old grandson is already leaning over my shoulder, begging to write his friends back home about the ghastly news here. Alexander insists it is to show me how to do a dozen other things on the World Wide Web, but I know better.
He groans. He can't understand why I insist on calling him Alexander instead of Alex. I've tried to explain that if his parents wanted him, Abigail, and Angela called Alex, Abby, and Aggie that's what they would have put on their birth certificates.
"But Grandma, isn't your name Beverly, not Bev?"
Sometimes he's too bright for his own good. I half-expect him to become one of these fancy trial layers. That or a surgeon or an engineer. After all, he is good with his hands, just like his grandfather.
Four-year-old Abigail, my youngest, is tugging on my sleeve. She wants to say hi to all her friends back home: Laurie, Rose, Amy, Veronica, and of course, Daddy.
So far Abigail recognizes "Daddy" and her name. She also knows all her letters. I suspect she'll be reading before kindergarten. Just goes to prove there's a brain under her golden angel curls. No dumb blondes in this family.
Poor Angela. She's sitting across the Java Joint table, trying to act so proper while I write this. At seven she already possesses more grace and manners than girls three times her age. She would make a wonderful wife of some distinguished dignitary. Or maybe she will become one herself.
She keeps sipping diligently at the "grown-up" coffee she insisted on. But I'm thinking it's time to get something a little sweeter. Bailey, I need three banana-split hot cocoas to go.
Oh, why not. Make that four.
Oh, my, am I really admitting such a thing publicly? This blog is changing my life...
Kinda big to throw around now.
LOL!
P.S.--S-man, how's your manuscript coming?
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