..I was aimlessly passing time, browsing through MySpace last week, reading all the witty and not so witty profiles when I caught a glimpse of someone’s response to the general interest question about who is your hero? Their response..”mmm..let’s see, you don’t really see many of them today, anymore, do you?” I tucked away the response, in my mental recesses and didn’t give it further thought until…..last weekend.
Last weekend..I became my grandson’s hero..all over again. When I was asked if I could take him for the weekend, I of course, said yes. Who wouldn’t want their own grandchild? In all honesty, before being asked, I had already made other plans and was looking forward to doing what I liked that weekend, which was to do absolutely nothing, for a few days. Caring for children, even my own grandchild wasn’t part of the plan. I pushed aside those thoughts and set about to make it as memorable and as fun as I could.
First, we went fishing in the back lake . I took him to the bait shop and together, we picked out the biggest minnows we could find. Our little bass boat was temporarily out of service, so we settled on the banks with our rods and reels and cast from shore. In a matter of time, and after a lot of snagged lines and lost bait, we caught some of the biggest fish in the lake. Well, actually, I was the one catching them. After reeling in my first few catches , I caught a glimpse of my grandson and saw on his little face what had first been excited determination, quickly turn to disappointment, over his apparent bad luck. I started to give him the old pep talks about how quickly luck can change, and that it wasn’t his fault, when just about then, I got the biggest bite ever. I was sure I was snagged up on something , on the lake’s bottom, but then I felt the unmistakeably heavy tug and nice fight, that I knew only a large mouthed bass could give.
I started to reel him him in when I remembered my grandson’s face..and then I quickly asked him if he would mind holding my rod for me while I attended to something. for a minute. I said, by the way, if it gets stuck on something…just reel it in as best you can. Imagine his face when he pulled in the mack daddy of all bass. It was a huge one! He was so proud! His little face was flushed red, with excitement and the heat of the day, but it was a face of pure joy. It was priceless. We carried that poor fish up the hill, quickly showed if off to everyone that was around to look at it, and then took him back to the lake to set it free. My grandson learned how to gently roll him into the water with the general send off blessing that I like to give to fish when releaing them: to ”go live to see another day”.
We’d just finished fishing, when the idea came up to teach him how to shoot a gun. Not just any gun..a bb rifle. Just the thought of it, made his eyes pop out of his head. He grinned a grin that only Ralphie, in “A Christmas Story, could give, when envisoning his prized Red RyderRed Ryder Carbine-Action Two-Hundred-Shot Range Model Air Rifle!
He was both, excited and scared at the same time. He had heard so much about the evil of guns that we felt it was time for him to learn responsible gun safety. We taught him to always check that the safety was on, when not shooting, ..and to never, ever, point a gun at anyone unless you are determined to shoot to kill. We would need targets so my husband went on-line , found, and printed out three practice targets: one of Omar Kadafi, (for lack of finding a more recent dictator and modern day terrorist) a red fox, and a typical target silhouette of a bad guy. He spent the rest of the day shooting targets (and a lot of my trees, each time he missed), but at the end of the day, he was standing about two feet taller, proudly showing off the little holes in the head of old Omar and that poor fox.
We completed the perfect day with a great action movie at the theater, complete with popcorn and coke (a carbonated beverage – and something he can’t have at home – hah! -house rules don’t apply at grandparents houses) and finally, we ended it by playing competitive, endless games of Ages of Emperors all night on the PS2.
Do you know how I want to remembered by my grandson? I want to be a hero in his life.I want him to remember me as the kick ass gaming grandma, who always had time for him, who gave him unconditional love and taught him kindness and manners but was never grossed out about anything, including hearing him burp out the abc’s. Something only boys, like to do. I want to be that someone who always had fun lessons to give and exciting stories to tell, like the ones around the camp fire, when he was scared, and I assured him that I was scared of nothing and no one and that I would rip wolves (or anyone else, for that matter) apart with my bare hands, should any of them dare, ever touch him or cause him harm . Being a grandparent is cool. It is like you get a second chance to do it right, again. The pressure is off to raise perfect children, now you can just relax and love your grandchildren, perfectly. Who says, there has to be a lack of heros? Just become one.
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Best 8 year old joke of the week: Hey Nanny..did you know they discovered water on Uranus? – get it? – you gotta love kids! 
