The grandkids are here – the three youngest grandsons to be exact. The excitement begins each day no later than 6:30 in the morning as the youngest comes into our room. There is no pretending to be asleep so I send him to the kitchen to put on the coffee. He’s gone just long enough for me to put on some pyjama bottoms and then engage with him in a game or two before he declares that he is hungry for some breakfast.
The two of us stay busy until his cousins wake up an hour and a half later, at which time, I am left in the dust so he could play with his older cousins. When all finally have breakfast, I have a bird house building project that is meant to keep them busy for much of the morning. Less than an hour later, the task is done. And no, they don’t want to paint their birdhouses. So, up they go onto the fence with the other bird houses built by the oldest three grandsons who aren’t part of the present action.
It’s a cool morning with occasional threats of light showers that persuade the boys to play games in the house. Occasionally I win – occasionally. And now, they are with Grandma at the pool while I get some time to myself. Naturally, I waste no time in losing my clothes and just relaxing. Outdoors I go and allow my whole body to breathe. Soon, the boys will be back and it will be full-steam ahead until bed time. I love being a grandfather.