As moms, there isn’t much we won’t do for our kids, right? And this is especially true after they make us grandmothers! As they say at Grandparents.com, it’s great to be grand.
Anyhoo, I was the designated driver/runner of errands/chief cook and bottle washer/tidier/ laundress and “other duties as assigned” as my old employer used to say, at my recent stay with my daughter and her family when she was having her second son. Do you need me to tell you how much I relished that role? (I also relished the roll, when I made hot dogs, but that’s not important right now…)
So, I was saying… There I was, always at the ready, panting like a puppy waiting for the rubber ball to leave its master’s hand, hoping for a helpful assignment on my daughter Rachel’s first morning home from the hospital.
Bingo! “Mom, could you do me a favor?” Hey, that is exactly what I’m here for, at least during the moments that I’m not holding the new little guy. “I bought the pads the surgical instruction sheet told me to get, but they’re awful. Do you mind going to the store for me?”
Great, just give me specifics, and I’ll be on it like white on rice.
“Well,” she said, “I can’t really tell you exactly what to get, I just know I can’t use these. They’re ginormous.” Actually, given the situation, perhaps that should be spelled ‘gynormous’. “I need something smaller and, well-- wearable.”
Big is bad? I wondered aloud. Post surgery? Isn’t big good in this case? I realize that my child-bearing years are behind me, but still…
When I got home, Rachel asked me what I bought. I think I got the ostrich-type—you know, flightless? I told her. “You mean without wings?” Exactly. And two steps down from the ones you had.
“They’re not skateboards, honey. I think they’re more like flip-flops.” At least they open in two steps instead of four. A significant improvement.
And now, dear readers, your cake, as promised!