Play with me Gran
No, not that way.
Gran you gotta play right.
Chastised, Gran looks up from the floor where she had been holding her head while small grandson hides behind the lounge.
He calls out:
Ready Gran, come find me.
She wonders how she’ll get up off the floor
But she’s committed to the game
She heaves herself onto her knees
Knowing where her grandson is
But determined to play
As she loves this time with him.
She hears his tell-tale giggle,
Walks around the lounge room
I wonder where he is?
Is he there?
Is he here?
I bet he is here!
There are squeals of delight as he laughs out loud
Pleased he has been found.
Your turn Gran he cries
I’ll count to ten.
Gran backs off as the small boy puts his pudgy hands over his eyes and counts in his small boy way:
One, two, four, six, nine, ten.
Coming or not Gran.
Her grandson has unlimited energy, and she is feeling hers waning as the day goes on
But she loves her grandson and perseveres.
I’ll sleep tonight she tells herself as the boy’s mother enters to rescue her from a dinosaur attack the boy has now initiated.
Later she travels home the memory of the day firmly in her mind.
Her heart warmed by the privilege of being Gran to such a beautiful boy.