Isn’t it just terrific knowing if anything ever happened to your kids or grandkids that you have the strength of ten men and could protect them without blinking an eye?
Of course it is! (If only it were true.)
Naturally, when I question the veracity of that statement, I’m speaking about you mere mortals. I am completely aware that this is always true for me, and I regularly set about to prove it.
The two youngest of our granddaughters are currently aged six and four. Because they only live five minutes away, they frequent our lives often, and Grandma and I always make a big deal of their arrivals and departures.
The Girls Also Make a Big Deal About Departing.
How can I tell it’s a big deal? Because it takes forever to get them seated in their car seats.
One of my more adorable habits is to push Grandma’s SUV out of the garage after they are buckled in. After much stretching and prepping, along with huge, exaggerated inhalations and exhalations, I was ready for that day’s miracle.
Apparently, I had been neglecting my duties of late, and Annabelle, the oldest, sent word through Grandma that my assistance was requested.
Now, I was working on a deadline at my desk and found myself loathe to leave. But when word came back a second time, who could resist? I decided to give it my all and be done with it.
But if I had to do this now, it would be the Show of Shows.
Annabelle heard me coming and ran from the kitchen to the garage. I had never seen her buckle in so quickly in her life. Grandma had read my mind and quietly assumed her position in the driver’s seat.
I walked to the side of the car and stared at Annabelle with mock steel in my eyes. Then, I pointed at her to let her know I wasn’t happy at being disturbed today.
Having silently voiced my displeasure, I walked to the front of the SUV and pointed at her again. Like The Babe pointing to center field and telling the kid in the hospital where he was putting his home run.
I slowly stretched my arms up into the air, then out front, to the sides, and to the back.
I yawned and rotated my head from side to side and up and down. Dancing up and down and shaking my arms, I finally bent over the hood, put my hands in position, and locked my feet and knees.
Nodding at Grandma to begin, I pushed and strained to move the car as Grandma slowly pushed the accelerator. Slowly, it moved as I pushed and grunted, screamed, and strained.
Suddenly, I found myself really straining.
The Strength of Ten Men Had Left Me.
I looked up to see Grandma, head down on the steering wheel, trying to stifle an uncontrollable laugh. As I looked at her quizzically, she tried to speak, then shook her head and lowered it again. Finally, she regained enough composure to resume.
At length, we made it to the driveway, where she opened the car door and, holding her mouth, made it to me.
“What’s going on?” I said. Then she managed to gasp out the following.
Annabelle said, “Grandma.”
Annabelle whispered, “Go slow, so he really thinks it’s him.”