but I woke up this morning feeling rawther frisky. Last night was cool (relatively speaking, for Statesboro, Georgia) so I left the windows open and the birds woke me up with a jolt, thinking it was 7 or 8 when it was actually 5. I got up, thinking “oh Rats, Sweet Daddio has already left for work and I didn’t wish him off” but when I climbed back in bed he was still there. How odd.
It’s Friday! Yay! This means several thing. One is, SD might actually be home at a civilized hour, say, 3 or 4, enabling us to wind down for the evening, eat a slow and relaxed dinner, and he’ll be able to enjoy his new Basil Hayden’s bourbon without any time constraints or weariness. This is what one should DO on a Friday night, especially since Saturday will not be a day of piddling around the yard and philosophizing with George the Greek about carbon footprints and diesel engines.
Oh no. Saturday is the Day #4 Leaves for the Summer. Just like that, he will be at the Grandparent’s until July 22, and it will be very, very quiet around here. Very quiet indeed and what on earth will I do? I mean, so much of my day revolves around sweeping up grass clippings tracked from the pool, picking up wet towels, socks, and legos, and cooking fish sticks and tater-tots (ketchup is a vegetable, right?). Golly, I’ll have to find something else to do, revert to talking to myself, and watching shows I can’t watch when he’s around (Six Feet Under, Nip/Tuck, all those shows about dysfunctional people doing naughty things). That will be good for about a week, then what? I’m going to miss him, that’s for sure.
I didn’t have this sort of relationship with my grandparents. My mother’s parents weren’t in the picture at all, and my father’s parents we saw maybe once every 3 or 4 years, for a few days until my parents couldn’t tolerate being around them and we left. SD had a terrific relationship with his mother’s parents, who owned a farm not far from his hometown. He spent weekends and summers with them, working in the mornings tending peanut fields and cattle, and afternoons getting the truck stuck between pinetrees , shooting out electrical boxes on the side of the barn, and other mischief with his 4 other same aged cousins. You’ll have to get the whole story from him. He swears it wasn’t his fault and he was put up to it. His relationship with his grandparents is kind of foreign to me, and I admire it from a distance. I am trying like everything to give our kids that same sort of memory-making opportunity. Ergo, #4 is spending summers with them. at least until he’s 16 and gets a job. I will miss him but I know he will be in good hands.
He’s spending the bulk of June with SD’s parents and his cousins from Florida. Grandmother will cook anything he wants, whenever he wants. Fried potatoes and eggs,fried bacon, fried pound cake, fried okra. #4 will put on some weight and grow a foot. He will be allowed to stay up until 3 am and sleep until noon. At the end of June, Grandmother and Grandaddy will deposit #4 at my parent’s place, where he will be on the receiving end of a different grandparenting philosophy. He will be up by 6, eat a nutricous…um…nutrishus…er…y’know…good for you and bland breakfast, and go to work in the shop with Gramps. Not a store shop, but a workshop, building toys and such. Since his cancer scare, Gramps has relaxed considerably and has learned the art of constructive play. He will take #4 down to the pond to fish for supper, and teach him how to shoot a .22 rifle and a 20 gauge shotgun. They will snake hunt, and play with Bubba, the Big Black Dog.. #4 will lose the weight he gained at Grandmother’s, grow another foot, and put on some muscle. He will learn how to drive, using the Utility Cart. Since Gramps reenforced it with plate steel bumpers, crashing into trees really won’t be an issue. Come July 22, he’ll return home, 2 feet taller, tan and with some new skills. I am going to miss him, but what a great opportunity to live a life I wanted but never got.
So today, I’m washing his clothes and packing up. We leave 7 am tomorrow to meet grandparents and cousins in Montgomery and hand him off. *sigh*. He promised to write, and I am giving him some stamped envelopes and paper with a stern admonition to do just that. Illustrations will be fine, if he doesn’t want to actually do something as tedious as putting words to paper. He’s definitely more visual than linguistic.
*sigh* I am going to miss him. The other boys better take up some slack by coming by more often.