Death Of A Rabbit

My daughter and I took her children for a walk. My grandson was 6 or 7 and my granddaughter was 4 or 5. We walked through their neighborhood looking at flowers and watching for animals and birds.

As we usually did, when we returned to their house we made a tour of the back yard. In the spring we watched as the flowers came up through the soil then grew and bloomed. We smelled all smells and tried to identify where they came from.

On this day it was autumn. The leaves were falling from the trees at a record pace. The flower beds and the grass were covered with fallen leaves. Sometimes we would startle a rabbit back there but we did not see any that day.

Until my grandson went, "Oooooh" in a sympathetic tone. My daughter and I realized at the same time that he was starting to reach for an animal. We both yelled at him to stop. He looked at us, startled.

We quickly went over to him. There lying in a flower bed was a dead rabbit.

We explained to him that whether the animal was sick or dead we did not know what was causing the problem. You cannot just touch any animal you do not know because it could cause injury or illness to you. He seemed to undeerstand.

My daughter did not want to leave it lying there. I told her to go get a shovel and we would dispose of it. She was worried about my grandson being upset. I told her that was why we always held a funeral for animals when she was growing up. It is a way to say goodbye and it showed the finality of the animal being gone.

My grandson loved the idea of a funeral. He went and found an old shoebox. When we asked where we should bury the rabbit he chose a spot under the bushes right in front of the house. He wanted to conduct the ceremony so we let him.

We dug a hole and my grandson placed the box containing the rabbit carefully into the hole. We covered the box with dirt and tamped it gently down. Then my grandson started to speak.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to say goodbye to our friend, the rabbit." I stood in total shock. He had never been to a funeral so I could not understand where these words were coming from. My daighter and I looked at each other in amazed amusement.

He continued with his little tribute about how we did not know the bunny but we felt bad that he was dead. Then he knelt to say a prayer. I started to choke a bit with laughter. He looked like such a little angel with his hands pressed together looking toward the sky imploring that this little bunny rabbit be taken to a better place. Finally there was an "Amen".

My daughter and I started to go inside. I was actually halfway up the steps. Then my grandson stood at attention and put his hand to his forehead in a salute. His other hand formed into a loose fist and was placed at his mouth. Through that hand we heard, "Phtt, phtt, Phhhhhttt...". He was playing Taps!

I was choking trying to keep from opening my mouth and laughing out loud. Tears were running down my face. I did not dare look at my daughter because I knew I would not be able to contain myself. So I stood there not able to breathe with tears all over my face, turning red.

At the end of Taps, my grandson sweetly said a soft goodbye. "Goodbye, little bunny rabbit." It was over.

I jerked myself into the house so I could breathe and laugh without hurting his feelings. When my daughter came in shortly after she was laughing almost as hard as I was while berating me for leaving her out there all alone.

Bugs Bunny was the culprit. My grandson had seen a Bugs Bunny cartoon in which a funeral was held. He had practically memorized the whole thing. Thanks a lot, Bugs!

Early Morning Call

My phone rang early this morning. I had no idea what time it was because I was sound asleep.

Because of my seizures I do not ump up out of bed for anything. Bad consequences have taught me to get up more slowly.

I heard my daughter's voice on the voice mail so as soon as I could muster myself I got up and called her back. When I looked at the clock I saw that it was a couple minutes after 6:00.

My grandson, who is 19, is in the hospital.

They had their Thanksgiving dinner yesterday because it was the first day he would have off work and they wanted to celebrate as a family. But my grandson did not feel well. Instead of eating he stayed on the couch groaning.

He has always had a problem with constipation. He is supposed to take something every day to ease the problem but as with most young people he is not diligent about it.

He did not say anything but he did take a laxative to see if that would help. There were a couple of other things he tried. He still felt worse and worse.

My daughter kept asking him (as all of us who are mothers do) if he needed to see a doctor. He did not know. He ust knew he was in pain.

Finally his parents took him to the emergency room of the hospital. It was a Saturday and the doctor's office was closed.

After asking a lot of questions and a few tests it was determined that his appendix would need to be removed. It had not burst but it needed to come out sooner rather than later.

The hospital called in the necessary team to do the surgery.

Shortly before 6:00 the doctor came out to tell my daughter and son-in-law that the surgery was over and successful. As soon as my grandson was out of recovery they could see him.

He also said that at some point between the time they decided to do surgery and the surgery itself my grandson's appendix had burst. They were certain that there would be no complications because of that but he will be in the hospital until they are sure.

As I was talking to my daughter the nurse came to let them know that my grandson was being moved to his room and they could see him in a few minutes.

I know that he will be sleeping most of the day so I will wait until tomorrow to talk to him. Thank goodness it is a good outcome.

My Third Grandson

My third grandson is as precious to me as all of my grandchildren are. Unfortunately I do not know him very well. His father has been in prison since he was about two years old. His mother sometimes lets us see him and sometimes she doesn't. Since I moved almost four years ago I have not seen him at all.

I do talk to him on the phone when he visits one of my children but those visits are not often. It is hard to hold the attention of a little boy when he really does not know you so the conversations are short and bittersweet.

I was so excited when I learned that my son and his girlfriend were going to have a baby. I knew how much he wanted to be a father and I knew he would be a good father. His girlfriend seemed to be good with my son's daughter when she was discovered and she had a little boy from a previous relationship.

Then my son was arrested. His girlfriend stopped answering calls from us most of the time. We were concerned about both her and the baby.

One day while I was working my daughter called and asked for me. When I called her back she told my my grandson's other grandmother had called to let us know his mother had gone to the hospital. I immediately left work. I assumed she would not want me in the room as she was giving birth but I was hoping she would see me and let me see the baby after.

When I got to the hospital her mother greeted me and told me she was fine. She had fallen and they were not sure if she was going to have the baby or not. Since I was there she decided to go home for a while.

I sat with the mother while she slept. The room was chilly and I noticed her trying to tug the blankets around herself. When a nurse came in I asked for another blanket. She got a warmed blanket that I placed over the mother. She seemed to resr more peacefully after that.

Finally she woke up when her phone rang. She talked to the person for quite some time. Then she rolled over in bed without acknowledging that I was there.

I was getting ready to leave when the doctor came in. I was not asked to leave so I stayed long enough to find out if she was having the baby.

From her discussion with the doctor I discovered that she had been out with a former boyfriend who beat her up. She was being released from the hospital as long as she could assure the doctor that she would not put the baby in jeopardy.

I then waited for her mother to return so she would not be alone. I told her I was there for her if she needed me. Then I left.

I was at a softball game my granddaughter was playing in when we found out that my grandson had been born a couple of days earlier. I was hurt that we did not know earlier but so happy to have a new baby in the family.

After he was about two months old we were finally allowed to see him. His grandmother took him to the house of a friend of hers. The man was very nice and told us to be comfortable there as long as we wished.

My grandson was beautiful like all the babies in our family. He looked like a combination of his father and his older brother.

As we were leaving after just enjoying the feel of my grandson his grandmother took me off to one side. Her daughter needed $1500.00.

I will never know why they thought I had that kind of money available to me. I would not have given it to her if I had. But I was grateful for anything that allowed me to see my grandson.

Over time we were allowed to see him. We even had him for weekends sometimes. You could just look at his eyes and see the intelligence there. He was so smart, again just like the rest of the babies.

And such a big boy. He is going to be tall like his father but I think his bones are bigger so he may be built more like a linebacker than a basketball player.

We noticed that he especially liked toys that would light up. We made sure to have a good supply of them at Christmas. One year his aunt and uncle gave him a toy gun that made rat-a-tat noises and blinked its lights as he fired it. He could hardly put it down to open any other presents. We actually had to change the batteries in it before the night was over and it was getting low when his mother came to pick him up.

When his father got out of jail he immediately went and picked up his children. He let their mothers know that he wanted to spend as much time with them as possible. He actually had them for days and sometimes weeks at a time before their mothers wanted them back. My son was happy.

He took his son with him everywhere. My grandson adored his father. And we were able to see that little guy as often as we wanted.

I took him to parks and out to eat as well as having him overnight with my other grandchildren. I kept toys and things to do for them to keep them occupied. He and his sister liked to take the sidewalk chalk out and make huge pictures on my sidewalk. I always left them until the rain washed them away. And my refrigerator was covered with artwork. I loved it.

My daughter's children and my son's children were with us at my daughter's house. We were all sort of doing whatever we wanted to do outside. My grandson picked up a stick and proceeded to shoot everyone. He would shoot and he would laugh while we pretended to be hit. Even the boys who were playing basketball with my daughter's son played along. (My personal opinion is that teenagers today are much more aware of little ones than they were in my generation.)

Then it began to rain. We love rain but we were not sure how my son's children would react. They danced in the rain along with the rest of us. Alone and together in the group we all did "our thing". It was a glorious afternoon.

My son was arrested again. He had been gone for quite some time but we were fortunate enough to have his children for the weekend. My daughter asked us to stay at her house and she got some extra time off from work. The kids and I would be sleeping in my grandson's room so we could all be together.

We were just sitting there talking and trying to decide what to do next when one of the older kids said something about Daddy. My grandson's head whipped up and he asked, "Daddy?" My heart was broken. He had been with his daddy almost constantly and then his daddy was gone. How do you explain that to a child who can barely speak?

These days my grandson makes the most of his visits with his aunts, uncles, and cousins. He is still a big boy, not fat mind you, just big. He loves to wrestle with the other boys even though they are older. Wrestling seems to be a favorite family activity. He enjoys family outings.

My grandson is very quiet and shy according to my second granddaughter. He likes video games (what kid today doesn't?) and likes to play outside. He is only 8 years old.

Like I said I do get to talk to him on the phone occasionally. His father has promised me that one of the first things he will do when he gets out of prison is bring his children to visit me. I am waiting.

My Second Grandson

My second grandson is my daughter's oldest child. You have already read about his rabbit funeral and his adventure with my nephew and the go-cart. From that you might think he is a "quirky" child. You would be absolutely right.

I was fortunate to be with my daughter and the baby's father when he was born. It was an extremely difficult delivery. My daughter had to stop working early because her blood pressure was too high. She felt fine but the doctor said it was just too dangerous for her and the baby.

They decided to induce labor because her blood pressure had risen anyway. During the last stages of labor she was having a difficult time and the baby was in distress. But as I could see him being born I could see what a pretty baby he was. He looked just like his grandfather.

When I called my mother-in-law to let her know the baby was here I said, "He's a real pretty baby. He looks just like John." She said, "Well now you know Emma that Johnny always was my prettiest baby."

He was a tiny baby and they did not let him go home for a few days. He needed to weigh at least five pounds. They would not allow my daughter to stay with him and she suffered so. She wondered if she had done something wrong. She was at the hospital each day for as long as they would let her stay. After a few days he came home.

I stayed with them to help with the baby. I was able to sing to him and tell him stories. He seemed to be an appreciative audience. The first song was of course The Unicorn and the first story I told him was Three Billy Goats Gruff.

Even before he could get up onto his hands and knees to crawl, my grandson could propel himself around the apartment with amazing speed. When we put him on a blanket on the floor he wiggled like a little worm and went wherever he wanted to go.

One day I was talking to my daughter on the phone. We were having a thunderstorm and she was looking out the window to watch. All of a sudden a huge crash of thunder sounded. She was laughing because my grandson started to cry. He did not like storms at all. I asked her if she was sure he was ours. We all love a good storm.

My grandson was fascinated by ceiling fans. It was one way to keep him in place at home. If he lay on his back he would watch the fan and become mesmerized. Any place we went he would spot the ceiling fan if there was one then stare seemingly hypnotized the whole time it was in sight.

That was a blessing in the store because he was also a screamer. He seemed to think that rather than be placed comfortably for all in the cart he should be carried. If we insisted that he stay in the cart he would scream. We never gave in to him but he did not care. He could screech as long as we left him in the cart.

Once my son, my daughter with my grandson, and I were shopping in a department store. My grandson was screaming. Suddenly I could take it no more. I took off. I hid among the racks of clothing. I could hear my son and daughter looking for me. When they would get too close I would move. Finally when I composed myself I reappeared and we continued shopping.

He was so very thin. He looked like a child from a third world country but he was perfectly healthy. I used to tease him that if he turned sideways he would disappear.

You should see the way my grandson sleeps. He lies on his back. He then folds his arms on his chest the way a vampire is shown at rest. That is the way he sleeps. Like a dead man.

My grandson could sing the theme song to every television program he watched. He could also do quite good impressions of a lot of the characters. For a while Popeye was his favorite.

We were sitting in a little diner when he suddenly stood up on his seat and sang the theme song for Popeye. Everybody turned to look. When he finished he took a bow and sat down. He was done.

He had funny eating habits too. He sort of naturally ate a low carb diet. He loves vegetables. He liked pancakes but nothing on them. No syrup, no butter, no jam, no sugar, nothing. And he ate them strangely. He would pick up a pancake and peel it open Then he ate the inside of the pancake and left the brown outside.

He also liked grilled cheese sandwiches. He would pull the two slices of bread apart and peel the melted cheese from inside and eat it.

When he and his sister were small they would come to my house while their mother worked. I believe in outside activities so we would go to the back yard. One day the phone rang. I told them I would be right back. They practically beat me into the house. They were afraid the wind was going to blow them away.

On hot summer days I would turn on the sprinkler for them to run through. My older two grandchildren's cousin lived a couple of doors away. She is about the same age as my second granddaughter so she was usually at my house while they were there.

My grandson had to go to the bathroom. I could not leave the girls outside alone because they were too small. My grandson needed to have me with him when he did what he needed to do. I told him to go in the bushes. He balked at first but finally went in the bushes. Then he proudly came out and urged the girls to come see the puddle he had made. After that he could not wait to play outside so he could water my bushes.

My grandson was not thrilled to have a sister. When she was first born he was very proud and very protective but that wore off quickly. When he was old enough he would request "only child" days.  His little sister would come to my house so he could have his parents all to himself.

One of my grandson's testicles did not descend. The doctor advised waiting because that is rather a normal thing and often it will move into place when it is good and ready. But his did not. He needed surgery which was completely successful.

My daughter and her family went to visit my mother-in-law. Everyone was sitting in the living room talking. My daughter urged my grandson to go tell Grandma about his operation. He walked over in front of Grandma, dropped his pants, and held up parts so she could see his scar.

My second grandson was just like my first grandson in one way. They both would come in the door at my house and begin to shed clothes. He would strip down to his underwear and socks. Then he would head for the computer and that would be the last peep out of him.

My grandson played soccer for a little while. After a couple of years he said he did not want to play any more. But he loves basketball.

He played basketball for several years before he realized that he was never going to be tall enough to make most teams. But I loved to watch him. He was defense. He could confound the player for the other team better than anyone I have ever seen. I once saw him slap the floor with both hands and come back up with a roar. The player opposite him just stopped and stared at him in shock. He actually was awarded a trophy for defensive player of the year.

My grandson is also unusual in the reading material he chooses. He reads things like The Iliad, political treatises, and the Bible. For enjoyment.

One year he decided for Halloween he would be Moses. He encouraged his friends to dress in similar characters. Most people thought he was dressed as Jesus. That upset him. "Can't they see that I'm Moses?!?"

My grandson graduates this year and will be off to college. He has a job. He used to have a car but after a couple of accidents (just like his older cousin) his parents only allow him to drive under specific conditions.

See what I mean about "quirky"?

My First Grandson

I walked in the door. My son and his girlfriend lived upstairs. Their apartment opened onto the stairs so I could look up and see a wrought iron railing and the back of their couch. On the couch looking over and down the stairs was this adorable little face. It lit up when it spotted me and got a look on it like, "GOD'S HERE!"

My first grandson has always made me feel more special than I am. He is a grown man now but when I call him on the phone, a bit of the little boy creeps into his voice when he softly says, "Hi, Grandma."

I read one time that a child's opinion of himself is formed during the first two years of life. If he is praised and made to feel special he will always feel that way. If he is belittled and made to feel unimportant he will always feel that way. The degrees may change with experience but the basic feeling is there.

In our family the children are the most important things we have. Each child is made to know that he or she is the smartest, prettiest, most loved being that ever lived. If someone says, "Hey, Pretty Girl," all the little girls will look up and answer.

One of my favorite things to do was to ask the child I was with, "Who loves you?" Usually the answer would be, "You do!"

I was driving with my grandson in the car one day. I asked him who loved him. He said his dad loved him. Who else? His Mom. Who else? His sister. Who else? His Grandpa. Who else? His aunt. Suddenly he looked up with a look of wonder on his face and said, "Everybody loves me!"

Again out driving we were listening to the radio. My daughter was with us too.  The song Hit The Road Jack by Ray Charles began to play. My grandson said, "Di you hear what he said, Grandma? He said hit the road Jack." He was laughing so hard. He thought that was the funniest song he had ever heard.

A group of people had gathered at my house for the pay-per-view wrestling event on TV. My grandson was about a year old. You know how rambunctious children are at that age. He was running around being a little boy and enjoying all the attention he was getting. He lost his footing somehow and fell. He hit his head on the corner of a table and blood came gushing out.

His parents left to take him to the emergency room for stitches. The nurses would allow only one parent in the room with him. As she always did when one of her kids was injured, my daughter-in-law promptly passed out. My son had to take her place.

Because of her inclination to faint when her children needed medical care (it is a family joke now) another member of the family always went to doctor with her. She would wait impatiently in the waiting room until we returned with her offspring.

My grandson had a mole growing on the back of his head. It needed to be removed. We all knew that my daughter-in-law could not manage this one. I volunteered.

My grandson and I made a day of it. His appointment was in the middle of the afternoon. He and I went to lunch before the doctor's office. He knew what was to happen.

The doctor talked to both of us. He explained that giving a local anesthesia to the back of the head would probably hurt more than the procedure itself. His plan was to simply cut the mole off and send it to the lab to make sure there was no cancer.

My grandson sat with his back to the doctor. I told him to hold my hand and squeeze as hard as he needed to whenever he felt like it. For some reason that seems to lessen pain. The doctor began to work.

My poor grandson was so brave. He was only about 8 years old. He sat there and squeezed my hand harder and harder as it hurt him more and more. I asked the doctor to stop and that brave little boy told him to just go ahead and get it over with. So brave.

When he was about 10 years old my grandson began to walk on the sides of his feet. I do not mean that he wore his shoes a little more on the outside edge, He was walking on the actual sides of his feet. His mother kept asking him if it hurt to walk that way and he said it didn't.

Finally my daughter asked him if it hurt if he didn't walk that way. He said yes. The doctor prescribed inserts to be worn inside his shoes to correct whatever the problem was. After several years his legs and feet were fine and he no longer needs the inserts.

You have probably seen a television program where a little boy gets his head caught in the rungs of the banister on the stairs. Well my two year old grandson did not do that. He got his head stuck in the spines of the back of a kitchen chair.

His mother and baby sister were the only ones home. His mother tried everything she could think of to help him get out. She thought about cutting the chair apart but she was afraid she would cut him too.

Finally his father got home from work. After he laughed for a minute he had my daughter-in-law calm my grandson and keep him still. Then he cut the chair away from my grandson's head.

When he was about four years old my grandson began to play baseball on a team. His mother and father were the coaches. (They were very good at it, as a matter of fact) They had practices where they learned how to play and how to run the bases, things like that. They actually played against other teams.

As little as they were they never struck out. The only way a batter was out was if the ball was caught in the air after it was hit or if the batter was thrown out running the bases. Some of the children were not proficient batters and could take some time before they finally hit the ball.

During one game my grandson had hit the ball and was standing on second base waiting for the next batter to hit the ball so he could advance. It took a while and my grandson was getting impatient. Finally he had enough. He started to walk off the field.

My son convinced him to go back to second base. He went, muttering all the way. After some more time the batter hit the ball and my grandson moved to third base. The next batter took a while too. So my grandson sat down on third base and took his batting helmet off and put it on the ground in front of him. He was bored and tired of trying to hide it.

My grandchildren are all intelligent little creatures. Sometimes it is a problem. My grandson would be finished with his work sooner than the other children in his class. He got bored.

Everyone knows that if a child has nothing to do, they will make something to do. And usually that is what will get them into trouble.

When his parents began getting notes from school saying that he was a discipline problem they did not know what to do. They were paying a lot of money to send their children to a private school and the school would not want to keep a problem child.

I knew what to do and when they asked me I told them. Let the teacher know that when he was idle she needed to give him something to do. Get him interested in a book he would enjoy. Let him bounce the basketball. Have him organize a section of the room. Anything to keep his mind active so that it would not think of other things that got him in trouble. That seemed to do the trick.

My grandson also played soccer, football, and he was a wrestler. His father had been wrestling with him since he was home from the hospital as a baby so he was good at that. And football is his special love. He tried out for the team in high school. His coach was ecstatic because my grandson is a big boy.

One day after school but before football practice my grandson was playing basketball in the gym with some of the other boys. He fell and his knee was a little sore but he could deal with it.

When they started football practice it started to hurt worse. They called the school nurse and she said it was fine, just a little bruised. So he kept trying. It was no use. His knee began to swell and he could no longer stand.

His ACL was torn and he needed surgery. When the doctors were inside the knee they discovered further damage. The ACL was not going to be repaired. The MCL needed to be repaired too. The ACL was replaced with one from a cadaver.

It was a painful surgery and an extremely painful recovery. My grandson is a tough kid and not much hurts him but he was in pain. Then there was the long period of physical therapy and crutches. He walked with an ever so slight limp.

He missed the first two years of high school football because of his injury. His final year of high school he again went out for the team. He had missed so much that he was not first string but he was happy to just be there.

They were doing some sort of drill during practice. Two other boys fish-hooked him and he went down. His other knee snapped. Another ACL surgery. With this one they did what they thought was a successful surgery. In the recovery room they did some testing before he was awake. Something was wrong. They needed to go back in.

They discovered damage to the MCL and to a couple of tendons. That did the job. After another painful recovery and a lot of therapy he is fine. He has a little bit of arthritis in his knees that he will have to keep an eye on but otherwise, it is all good.

My grandson was going to be a teacher. He wanted that from the time he was quite young. But going to college and trying to work and maintain friendships became too much for him. He is working fo a major car manufacturer now. He still wants to finsih his education but his work schedule will not allow it right now.

He is married too. His wife is a wonderful person who wants to be a doctor. Specifically she wants to be a forensic pathologist and perform autopsies. They are due to have a daughter very soon.

Death Of A Rabbit

My daughter and I took her children for a walk. My grandson was 6 or 7 and my granddaughter was 4 or 5. We walked through their neighborhood looking at flowers and watching for animals and birds.

As we usually did, when we returned to their house we made a tour of the back yard. In the spring we watched as the flowers came up through the soil then grew and bloomed. We smelled all smells and tried to identify where they came from.

On this day it was autumn. The leaves were falling from the trees at a record pace. The flower beds and the grass were covered with fallen leaves. Sometimes we would startle a rabbit back there but we did not see any that day.

Until my grandson went, "Oooooh" in a sympathetic tone. My daughter and I realized at the same time that he was starting to reach for an animal. We both yelled at him to stop. He looked at us, startled.

We quickly went over to him. There lying in a flower bed was a dead rabbit.

We explained to him that whether the animal was sick or dead we did not know what was causing the problem. You cannot just touch any animal you do not know because it could cause injury or illness to you. He seemed to undeerstand.

My daughter did not want to leave it lying there. I told her to go get a shovel and we would dispose of it. She was worried about my grandson being upset. I told her that was why we always held a funeral for animals when she was growing up. It is a way to say goodbye and it showed the finality of the animal being gone.

My grandson loved the idea of a funeral. He went and found an old shoebox. When we asked where we should bury the rabbit he chose a spot under the bushes right in front of the house. He wanted to conduct the ceremony so we let him.

We dug a hole and my grandson placed the box containing the rabbit carefully into the hole. We covered the box with dirt and tamped it gently down. Then my grandson started to speak.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here to say goodbye to our friend, the rabbit." I stood in total shock. He had never been to a funeral so I could not understand where these words were coming from. My daighter and I looked at each other in amazed amusement.

He continued with his little tribute about how we did not know the bunny but we felt bad that he was dead. Then he knelt to say a prayer. I started to choke a bit with laughter. He looked like such a little angel with his hands pressed together looking toward the sky imploring that this little bunny rabbit be taken to a better place. Finally there was an "Amen".

My daughter and I started to go inside. I was actually halfway up the steps. Then my grandson stood at attention and put his hand to his forehead in a salute. His other hand formed into a loose fist and was placed at his mouth. Though that hand we heard, "Phtt, phtt, Phhhhhttt...". He was playing Taps!

I was choking trying to keep from opening my mouth and laughing out loud. Tears were running down my face. I did not dare look at my daughter because I knew I would not be able to contain myself. So I stood there not able to breathe with tears all over my face, turning red.

At the end of Taps, my grandson sweetly said a soft goodbye. "Goodbye, little bunny rabbit." It was over.

I jerked myself into the house so I could breathe and laugh without hurting his feelings. When my daughter came in shortly after she was laughing almost as hard as I was while berating me for leaving her out there all alone.

Bugs Bunny was the culprit. My grandson had seen a Bugs Bunny cartoon in which a funeral was held. He had practically memorized the whole thing. Thanks a lot, Bugs!

Boys Will Be Boys

My youngest brother has a son who is the same age as my second grandson. They have had a few adventures together. As is often the case with children the adventures are somewhat exciting and, in my eyes, funny.

I have to tell you that I stare at my nephew a lot. He looks exactly like my father probably looked at his age. It drives my nephew crazy and I try not to do it. But it is just uncanny. My grandson looks so much like my ex husband that it is amazing.  So they both look like their grandfathers.

As pre-teens both boys were"into" wrestling. They watched wrestling on television. Often the matches shown only on pay per view were ordered to be shown at my house so they would be part of the group that came to watch them.

If wrestling was not on TV the boys were locking up and wrestling each other. A lot of the children in the family like to wrestle so that is not unusual. But my nephew is large for his age. He is a very handsome young man. My grandson is small for his age and very handsome also. You would think it to be a mis-match but they could both hold their own.

Before Christmas each year I would have all the children come to my house to make cookies. One year I had my grandson and my nephew. We had to go pick up my oldest grandson from, you guessed it, a high school wrestling meet. I thought they would enjoy watching their older cousin who is an excellent wrestler.

It was a long drive. The boys were in the back seat talking and laughing about different things. Occasionally the subjects would get a little naughty but I let them go because that is what kids do after all. And it was not too bad.

Of course there would be the occasional attempt to wrestle back there too. How they thought they could wrestle with seat belts on I am not sure. Whenever things started to get out of hand I would admonish them to settle them down.

Then they began to really giggle and started to talk about sex. I am not a prude and I let them go. After all they were only getting to know what sex was.

So the conversation was about sex. Then it was about heterosexuals. Then it was about homosexuals. Then it was about bi-sexuals. When they started talking about tri-sexuals I could no longer wait. I had to know what on earth a tri-sexual was. When they explained it to me (it was rather disgusting) I said okay and dropped the subject. So did they.

As I said before there were intermittent attempts to wrestle back there. Each time I had to be a little more firm. I was driving and could not break up a fight from the driver's seat. Finally I resorted to my trusty threat of putting them out if they did not stop. They would slow down and look at each other to keep from laughing, but it would stop for a moment.

Finally I said, "That's it! If you don't stop right now I will pull over and put you out of the car!" My grandson's head snapped up, he looked at his cousin and said, "Oops. She means it this time." All was quiet... for a while.

Of course they forgot themselves and started again. I told them they had been warned. I was going to pull off the highway at the next exit. They both paled and sat very quietly as I exited. What they did not know was that it was the exit we needed to take to get to where we were going. I chuckled to myself.

My oldest granddaughter had just graduated from high school. Her parents had a big party. All her friends and teachers were invited along with their families. All of our family was also there. I love family get-togethers. The generations mingling is special.

My son had gotten out all the things that would keep the children occupied. The croquet game was set up. There was a net for volleyball or badminton. There was the trampoline. There was my grandson's basketball hoop. Targets were set up for shooting practice with the BB gun. There was a slip-and-slide for the children to get wet and be cool. The kids' favorite was the go-cart.

I was feeding Cheetos to my niece's little boy. He loved them. It kept me amused because they turned his hand and mouth yellow. Then my niece would pull out another wipe to clean him off. So I would give him another Cheeto. It was a good time.

Apparently my daughter and my brother had told their sons that in order to ride the go-cart they must ride with an adult. I did not know that. I watched the two of them get on the cart together and take off. At breakneck speed they went around the corner of the house, around the propane tank, down the driveway, and onto the road. I laughed as they did war whoops as they went.

I was still feeding Cheetos to my nephew when my brother looked at my daughter and asked where the boys were. I started to laugh because they had been gone for a while and neither parent had realized it. I told them they had gone off on the go-cart.

They were understandably upset. I just laughed at them. I told them they were probably down by the creek where my oldest grandson went fishing sometimes. All the parents grabbed their cell phones and started calling the boys. No answer.

I laughed. They were going to go look for the boys. I laughed. They decided to try calling one more time. My nephew answered his phone. I laughed.

My nephew reported that they were having a little trouble with the go-cart. I laughed. My brother asked his son where he was. I laughed. My nephew asked my grandson where they were. Neither one was sure. I laughed.

The boys were pretty sure they knew how to get back to my son's house. I laughed. My brother told them to get back right away. I laughed. They said they would. I laughed.

After another long wait my daughter and my brother decided to search for the boys. I laughed. Car keys in hand they started toward the driveway. I laughed.

My son looked up and saw the boys... pushing the go-cart. I laughed. They got to the yard and everybody converged on them. Except me. I was laughing.

It seemed that they had gone into a ditch and the go-cart would not start after that. I laughed. My son looked at his go-cart. The axle was broken. I laughed

So parents were yelling at sons to try to find out what had happened. I was laughing hysterically.

Finally the truth came out. They had been taking turns driving. One of them had tipped the go-cart into the ditch. Both of them spilled out and the go-cart would not start. They were araid to tell anybody so they had been trying to fix it. I laughed.

Parents were still yelling at sons. I had to ask the obvious question. Were they hurt. Oh, no. They were fine. I laughed.

Finally my nephew admitted that the front of his hip was scraped and he had a couple of bruises. I laughed. My grandson insisted that he was fine. I laughed. No wonder nobody takes me anywhere.

When the party was over we all went home. I was watching TV and winding down from the day when the phone rang. My daughter was calling.

My grandson had gone to his room when they got home. My daughter and my grandson's father were watching television. My grandson came downstairs and went to the kitchen. They thought he was getting a snack.

When he was going back up the stairs my daughter noticed that he was holding something so they could not see it. It was a baggie full of ice.

He had a huge lump on the back of his head. He was afraid he would be in trouble if his parents knew. This time my daughter laughed with me.