Happy Feet

I’ve been in the land of The Backyardigans, Lincoln Logs, and Thomas the Tank Engine for the past few days. Good times with my four-year-old grandsons. Yep, there’s two of them. Identical at first glance, but they have developed their own unique tastes and quirks. One likes a peeled carrot (NOT cut into strips I found out) for lunch and dinner and scowls at every variety of meat except McNuggets. The other one has more adventurous tastes, but has to be FIRST at everything. I’m continually amazed at how two little creatures (with apparently the same DNA) have found their own place in the world. One spends inordinate amounts of time coloring in the lines with a variety of colors. The other takes two seconds to finish a picture and uses one color only because it’s time to build a Lincoln log replica of “his” house, and trust me, the windows and door have to be in the exact right place.

A little prejudiced about the precociousness of these fellas? Yep. I’ve earned the right. Paid my dues. Don’t even get me started on my other grandsons, who are equally wonderful. Or the twins’ baby sister, who at four weeks is just getting started weaving her way into our hearts.

My point is that I’m humbled and in awe of how uniquely crafted each of us are. Extraordinarily knitted together and stamped “original” by God himself. You. Me. The kid next door. And my grandchildren.

Did I get any writing done while I was gone? Not exactly, although I did keep up with my email and brainstormed a book idea with my daughter-in-law who is also a writer. Does it upset me? Not a bit. These guys will be grown and asking their dad for the car keys in the blink of an eye. I’m glad to be along for the ride. Lucky me.