Vacation At The Grand(pa) Hotel

Amusement parks are risky places for vacations. Outdoor water parks are largely closed. In Missouri even playgrounds remain off limits to kids.

So where can you go on a summer's vacation during a pandemic? How about a vacation at grandma and grandpa's. My son brought his family from St. Louis to Michigan for three weeks recently. Their children are ages 3, 2 and seven months. Lots of energy.

Sleeping arrangements alone took some creative thinking. Leave it to my three-year-old granddaughter Gwen to come up with a solution. After assigning most everyone a bed for the night, she told my wife, “Grandma, you do dishes and make breakfast.” Apparently she took that “man works sun to sun but a woman's work is never done” saying too literally.

But Gwen was in some ways the easiest to please. It was her brother Davis who posed 'terrible two' issues. He climbed on EVERYTHING. Cirque Du Soliel athletes would cringe at his stunts--body surfing down the stairs, for example. We moved the furniture in our family room so he could not climb up to the kitchen counter that separated the kitchen in family room.

“Davis!” we heard a cry. We had left one lamp table within reach of the counter. He scaled that somehow and was reaching for a tree of china cups over the granite kitchen countertop. We caught him just in time. “He's scary,” Gwen said of her brother. No kidding.

Our only granddaughter Gwen behaved much better, playing with arts and crafts. She's good at naming colors too. Said to me, “Your hair is white . . . like that curtain.” Our sheer kitchen curtains are indeed very white. Thanks, Gwen.

If my white hair spooked my granddaughter she came close to becoming even more scarred by my appearance. I was taking a shower when I heard the bathroom door open. Thinking my wife had come in to report something urgent, I stuck my head out of the shower. Didn't see anyone in the bathroom so I maneuvered my head out farther to see down the hall.

“Papa!,” cried Gwen who stood in the hall after opening my door.

I made sure I locked the door the next time I took a shower.

Of course, grandma and grandpa can't be as entertaining as cousins, so for a few days we hosted our three youngest as well as our three oldest grandkids. We played hide and seek at the park, dipped our feet into a nearby stream to cool us off from the summer's heat, and took full advantage of the playground equipment that had been off limits weeks ago.

Walking back home, my three-year-old grandson Owen asked me why Gwen called me “papa”. I told him I answer to many names from the grandpa he calls me to papa which is what my granddaughter calls me. He responded, “You can call me Owen or Owen Benjamin (his middle name),”

But for some reason at my age, I often call out the wrong names. I'll call Owen, Luke or Grant, Davis. Having six grandkids at home multiplies this effect. Just brain glitches but seven-year-old Luke often laments my poor memory. “Grandpa can you remember anything that happened years ago?” he chastized.

I turned it around, asking him if he remembers what he did years ago.

“I pooped and I peed and I drank a lot of milk,” he said.

“And you remember that?” I challenged.

“Yes.”

I let it go. You can't really win arguments with your grandchildren on such subjects. And when there's six of them, it's just best to let them talk and enjoy the moment.