Skip to main content

At Grandma’s House


          There’s a high chair by the trestle table and children’s plastic Christmas plates in the kitchen cupboard.  One toddler cup lost its sippy lid years ago and an “emergency bottle” sits next to the special dishes in the china cabinet.
An apartment-sized crib keeps the two boxes of rescued toys in the back room company, and Veggie Tales and Charlie Brown DVDs outnumber the TMC or Downton Abbey collection in the living room.  Stuffed toys abound ready to keep little people company during a nap, and a rocking horse that’s been in the family for two generations longs for a rider.
The “linen” closet stores a junior-sized inflatable bed, and toothbrushes wait for overnight visitors in the bathroom.  The medicine cabinet hides baby safe meds, tiny nail clippers, and cartoon bandages and thermometers of every type. Night lights lead the way to safety, bathroom, and grownups in the dark. 
Another closet hides (though it isn’t much of a secret) the play guns.  They don’t shoot bullets that could “accidentally” hit little brothers or Grandma’s knickknacks, but they are still fun, making lots of annoying noise instead.    
A wooden, miniature play kitchen sits in the space between the sit-in kitchen and the dining room.  Inside it holds everything a young chef might need to create a delicious, plastic feast, while Grandma’s kitchen stores the real stuff - frozen mac and cheese, white (wheat) bread, lemonade mix, and chocolate ice cream.  She also keeps strawberries, applesauce, and broccoli in case little people come to visit.
Grandpa’s office safekeeps books and games and construction sets.  Two giant jugs of magic bubble juice sit waiting in case anyone, big or little, feels the need to run around outside being silly. The back patio makes the perfect race track for the recycled old trike and the scooter no one else wanted, and there is a big, red wagon and a portable sand box waiting for sunny days.
At Grandma’s house, everyone young and old is welcomed to come over

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Dating Challenged

I stink at dating – always have.   I sputter.   I hyperventilate.   I fail miserably every time. I blame a pathetically underdeveloped gene that got little use before I married in my early twenties, then atrophied, gathering dust and rust, until I became single again in my fifties.   I decided to use this defect to my advantage when I needed to do some investigative reporting a few years back.   While on a newspaper writing assignment on Boomer-aged dating, I sacrificed my dignity and my vanity for the sake of the story (and I got several). Thank goodness, HoneyBunch saved me from all this when we married.  (He comes up with the best dates.) I’ve decided I will “show you mine if you show me yours.”   I will swap dating horror stories with you, but you have to promise to play along. The trick here is to tell about your worst date in 25 words or less.   You must keep it clean and you cannot name names. Our little contest will run only this week and before my next blogger posting.   Me

Happy Breastday to Me!

I gave myself a very special birthday present this year – I had surgery. Before you think it was to increase, decrease, or “lift” something, let me tell you it was not cosmetic (though I could probably use a few nips and tucks at my age; the infinite number of creams I buy OTC are not working their promised magic). About four or five months ago, I discovered a hard lump about the size of a large marble in my left armpit.  I had been feeling small pangs of pain in my left chest for several months, but I figured it was just my turn to dance with heart disease.  Everyone in my immediate family is diabetic and suffers from strokes or heart attacks, so I thought – here we go; my turn. I was going to tell my internist about the pangs during my next visit, so imagine my surprise when I discovered the lump. The Drama Queen in me immediately manifested herself – cancer, I thought.  I have cancer. I searched some more and found that the texture on the left side of my left breast felt diffe

Twelve Female Hero Authors Who Influenced Me to be an Author

In honor of Women’s History Month, I decided to share twelve female authors who changed my life forever and who influenced me to try my hand at writing. Some are not widely popular so you might want to try them out. 1.    Charlotte Bront é – English – Her plotting and characters - Jane Eyre and Mr. Rochester – are immortal.  2.    Louisa May Alcott – American – I loved how she created a family of Little Women that reminded me of my sisters.  3.    Jane Austen – English – Another author who knew how to build immortal characters. Two words:  Mr. Darcy. Two more words:  hubba hubba. 4.    Emily Dickinson – American - What a poet! Her innovation was pooh-poohed at first, but now we owe her for breaking all those punctuation barriers. 5.    Beverly Cleary – American – She created a little girl in Ramona that reminded me of me when I was a little girl.  I wish I had met Ms. Cleary’s books sooner instead of when I was in my 30’s. 6.    Judy Blume – American - He