September 11, 2012 at 10:47 pm , by Nick Shell
Labor Day morning we drove 2 hours to Chattanooga to visit my dad’s parents. My grandfather was retiling the shower when we arrived.
All Jack could see was the backside of man in overalls, who was pounding something with a hammer, but he was sold.
Whoever this mystery man was, my son needed to met him.
I didn’t bother explaining that he was my “dada’s dada.” I just let him be enthralled.
We made our way into the living room and Jack barely gave my grandfather time to sit down before Jack was making him play.
As weird as this sounds, my son has never been exposed to a toy sword before. So after finding one in their toy stash, he kept flying the “airplane” all over my grandfather.
It’s pretty easy to get my son to think you’re cool- just be a grandfather.
I have no trouble understanding this attraction. Little boys are adventurous.
And who has seen more adventure than a Korean War veteran with a Purple Heart? Somehow Jack sensed this about my grandfather.
Jack loves grandfathers.
I’ve mentioned before that in some ways, no one seems to understand Jack better than my dad, who he calls Papa. Jack has always been obsessed with my dad.
When I say obsessed, I mean obsessed. Though we live 2 and a half hours from my parents, Jack randomly says “Papa” in the middle of playtime for no apparent reason. Except for maybe that he associates adventure with his Papa.
This past weekend we hung out with Jack’s friend Henry, his parents, and grandparents. There was the train ride with Thomas, then breakfast at First Watch, and lastly we decided to tour the pet store next door.
After exploring several of the aisles with me nonchalantly trailing behind him, Jack saw Henry’s grandfather around the corner.
He lifted his hands up to him and said in his Todfather voice: “Up-eh!”
From there, Henry’s grandfather carried Jack around the store, as Jack pointed to the direction his new chauffeur was to take him.
I guess that’s one of the things that grandfathers are known for in the mind of a toddler boy; getting carried around in the likeness of a parrot on the shoulder of a pirate.
After a few minutes, Henry’s grandfather brought Jack back and sort of whispered like he was telling me a secret:
“When it comes to grandpa’s, boys just seem to know.”