Grandgirls are the best kind. I know that there are those of you who think grandboys are the best. I don't know how to break this to you, but you are delusional. If you have ever had a grandgirl you would know what I am talking about.
A few years ago Audrey gave Tess the sobriquet of "Tessaroo the Buckaroo." The origins of the name are mired in the misty, bogs of yesteryear and may never be discovered. She also gave herself the nom de plume of "Audrey Aluminum Foil." Likewise the genesis of that name has escaped down the mountain road and became lost in the crags of anonymity.
Tess and Audrey, our grandgirls, were visiting us recently without their parents and they thought that was great. For the first time they slept in different rooms and beds. Tess, 7, and Audrey 12, have always slept together in a small bedroom we have called "Naptown" for obvious reasons. Audrey is now beginning to separate herself from the youngster and she wants some space to be herself. So the separate accommodations were arranged.
The Buckaroo was sleeping by herself for the first time in our house. One morning she remarked, "I like this bed. It is so soft and roomy." Another morning I peeked in and she was in that state of half asleep and half awake. Naturally, Mr. Obvious, if she is half of one she is half of the other. I crept in, kneeled on the floor beside the futon and gently placed my head and part of my shoulder barely on the side of the bed. She was on the other side almost touching the wall. Suddenly, a foot came out from under the cover followed by a leg. The foot was as large as an unfolded newspaper page and it was attached to a leg that was as large as a telephone pole. The foot lodged itself against my shoulder and like a huge Caterpillar bulldozer unceremoniously shoved me off the bed and onto the floor like a beached whale. The foot and leg retracted beneath the cover. Then there flowed out from under the covers a mischievous giggle followed by another giggle and then an eruption of giggles and laughter. No symphony in the world ever produced a more lovely sound since time began. No hive of honey bees ever produced such a frenzy of sweetness. No poet ever arranged words that produced such a wonderful sentimental moment as that.
When I held our own babies on my shoulder and heard them softly sigh and felt their warm breath on my neck, I was in heaven on earth. That was the nearest to heaven I have ever been. Then when I held our grandgirls the effect was magnified many times. Plus their laughter is infectious. When I hear children laughing I think this must be how angels sound when they talk to each other. The laughter of children is as warm and wonderful as the sound of wind chimes on a warm, soft, summer evening just as the sun is setting. Grandgirls are still the best kind.
Larry grew up north of Calvertville on a farm and graduated from Worthington High School and Indiana State University -- four times. He can be reached at Goosecrick@aol.com or (317) 839-7656.