“This, is a banana,” I say. “This is Nana,” I say, pointing to myself.
After a breakfast of O’s and flakes—and bananas, it’s playtime. Evan’s attention span is typical of a fifteen month old—short—and so we do lots of different activities.
Santa brought him a ball pit, a great idea at the time Santa’s elves purchased it, but a not-so-great idea at 10:00 p.m. on Christmas Eve when Mommy and Daddy were huffin’ and puffin’ to inflate it. The pit is basically a small pool filled with colorful plastic balls, topped off by a corkscrew track.
“Eh, eh!” coaxes Evan, as he holds out a ball to me.
“Red ball,” I reply as I comply and drop the ball atop the track.
“Plop!” announces the red ball as it falls into the pit.
Tiring of this fascination, Evan heads to the house Papaw made for him out of an H.H. Gregg dryer box. Peek in window; enter house; peek out window at Nana. “Boo!” Nana can’t resist squeezing into the house via the toddler-wide door (Papaw didn’t take into account the likelihood that an adult might want to play inside). Evan lights up with delight and quickly joins me for a brief visit.
Then it’s on to his ATV (all terrain vehicle—Papaw went wild in the toy store). Evan’s short legs don’t quite reach the floor yet, but he’s more interested in the sound effects and lights than he is with driving.
Time for a workout on the Fisher-Price fort and slide. No need to “Eh, eh” at Nana for assistance; Evan’s up onto the platform and slipping down the slope head first on his tummy before Nana can say “Nana-banana.”
“Oh! What’s that?” Daddy’s bench press. “Oh, look at that cute baby in the mirror. Would you look at that—two Nanas!”
Time for a walk pushing the nifty, pint-sized, plastic car that transforms into a walker.
Push the button to turn on the TV. Grin at Nana. Turn off the TV. Turn on the TV. Grin at Nana…
Dig through the toy chest. Press lots of buttons that make animal sounds and music; boogey briefly to the beat. Open and close everything that opens and closes. Stack; unstack. Put in; take out.
Motor a matchbox car across the carpet, vocalizing motor sounds.
Sit on Nana’s lap. Have Nana read the six-page, indestructible, cardboard book about baby animals a gazillion times.
Time for a nap—Nana’s.
After a week’s rest, I can’t wait for Monday. I count the days. Can’t wait to kiss those baby soft cheeks and blow raspberries on Evan’s tummy. TGIM!
The Bible refers to God as our Heavenly Father, but I just bet he’s really our “Thank Goodness it’s Monday” Granddaddy.
“I have loved you with an everlasting love.”
Jeremiah 31:3 NIV