Together, they’re my angels…

Ever since she’s been able to walk, talk and spurn, my youngest granddaughter has regarded me with a mix of antipathy, chagrin and disdain. Last year, as I was leaving after a Thanksgiving visit, the following exchange took place with the then three-year-old.

“Are you sad grandpa is leaving?”

“No.”

“Are you happy grandpa came?”

“No.”

…Angels with dirty faces

“But you love grandpa, don’t you?”

And here is where I knew the whole pose was a game.

“Yes,” she said. Of course, it’s also possible she was aware Christmas was only about a month away. Nevertheless.

This time around, the fake ice was no closer to melting. In all the games Carol and I played with her and her sister, Juno steadfastly refused to be my teammate. When her older sister Harper suggested we switch up teams after each game, Juno refused. When Harper insisted it’s a part of the rules, Juno demanded we switch games so there weren’t any teams at all. (I should add that I am allowed to give Juno her breakfast. But that’s only because I ingratiating provide her with the yogurt and mini m&m’s she requests.)

It all culminated one afternoon, when she came down the stairs and addressed me as Grandpa Annoying. Two things. I was gratified she had at least acknowledged my existence with a nickname. And, two, I was proud to have a four-year-old granddaughter who knows what the word “annoying” means.

grandpa time is precious…

Juno was about 2½ and walking back to the car, when a duck suddenly flew away from the parking lot. “You scared that duck, Juno,” I told her jokingly

“I did not scare that duck,” she remanded sharply. She wasn’t done with me, either. After her mother strapped her into her car seat, she spun around and repeated, “Did NOT scare that duck!”

“It all culminated one afternoon, when she came down the stairs and addressed me as Grandpa Annoying. Two things. I was gratified she had at least acknowledged my existence with a nickname. And, two, I was proud to have a four-year-old granddaughter who knows what the word “annoying” means.”

It probably all started back when Juno was becoming verbal, and I pretended to mix up our identities by calling her grandpa and myself Juno. I’ve learned that toddlers pick up on things pretty quickly, and by the time they’re three, they’ll listen to what I say and respond: “Mom, is that true?” By the age of four, they don’t require independent verification. I once answered a four-year-old’s question of how her father and I met with, “Prison.” She fixed a steely gaze and replied, “You say something like that again, and I’ll kill you.”

…grandpa annoying time is more frequent

Carol has a three-year-old who’s wrapped me around her little finger. The other evening, she sidled up to my lap and poked my stomach. “Why do you have such a big belly?”

“Because I like this,” I answered, pointing to my bowl of pasta.

“Is it hot” She asked.

“Yes.”

“If it was cold, would your belly be smaller?”

My answer will, no doubt, inspire her to dispense dietary advice more freely in the future. It’s when she turns four, and learns eating cold pasta does not make your belly smaller that I’ll probably be due for a new nickname.

I’m pretty sure it won’t be my daughter’s, which for years was the affectionate, “@$$hole.”