Grandchildren are sweet and snuggly little animals who are a threat to their grandparents health.
I love my grandkids. All 5 of them.
Individually, and as a group of youngsters, aged 2 to 17, they’re strikingly attractive (thank heavens, they don’t resemble their father’s father)!
And, every stinking one of them is lightyears more advanced than I was at their age. Yeah, ‘light years’, seems about right.
Plus, as we Thorpes tend, they’re funny, deadly scarastic, highly opinionated and Kentucky mule stubborn.
It’s a blessing we live close to them. I mean, whatever would we do without them spending most weekends and school holidays with us?
The Whole Continuity Of Life Kinda Thing:
Other than the natural love I feel for my son and his babies, there’s also the primitive satisfaction from knowing we’ve passed on parts of our ancestors onto one more generation…
Which is an inkling of ‘something’ bigger than myself – a comfort for someone who isn’t all that impressed by himself.
Unlike average crime novel slueths, I’ve no problem accepting both coincidents and randomness as natural occurances.
However, what proof of anything, other than biology, is a granddaughter’s caustic comments about someone’s ridiculous behavior – even if it sounds like my Mother making fun of some pompous blowhard?
Or, does my grandson Beau, Jr’s authority noncompliance issues, which mirror my own lifelong attitude, hide something esoterically meaningful?
Good questions I don’t have answers for.
I’m okay with that. Some things in this life are better enjoyed while you can. We can analyse them when we’re dead.
Our grandkids are a case in point. All too soon, they’ll be too busy with friends and extracurricular activities to have time for the likes of us.
IF I manage to survive these intervening years, that is.
Just now, I’m not sure if I will.
Both Mrs. Thorpe and I, are on our 5th sick day from a vile and odious bug that could have only been contacted from one of 5 grandkids that spent last weekend slathering a cornucopia of toxic germs over every nook and cranny of our ‘stuff’.
Celia, 5 years old, showed cold/flu symptoms first. Her 2 year old sister when under next. Despite doctor visits, they still showed up at grannys feeling ‘too well to stay home’.
We were aware they were contagous little critters.
And, took reasonable prevention steps.
I guess we were too reasonable, because some of those nasty little kindergarden bugs graduated to seniorhood.
And, common childhood illnesses can be dangerous to older people.
Under the wrong conditions, the common cold, influenza, RSV (Respiratory Syncytial Virus) and whooping cough could become fatal to seniors.
For example, I’ve a history of heart problems. Last winter I inherited the flu from one of our grandkids. Flu evolved into bronchitis. Bronchitis started a process that sent me to hospital with congestive heart failure.
The path and process of a pre-school cold virus to a grandfather being hostipalized with heart failure, was probable more complicated than my description, but that’s the essence.
It took me a while to bounce back from that one.
And, I don’t want a repeat performance!
It would be an act of cruelty to deny stayovers from our grandchildren during school term.
It would be an act of stupidity to expect them to not carry about the toxic wastes from their classmates and school environment.
And, just because they arrive looking all cute and cuddly, showing no health symptoms, doesn’t verify they’re not radioactive, uh, hyperbolically speaking.
In the spirit of candidness, there’s no proof of how and where we contaminated. I mean, we do occasionally go out and socialize. Be that as it may…
From here onward, I guess we’ve gotta be less reasonable, preventionwise.
Anyway, talk to you next time. Until then,