Call To Doodie
I have always said Grand kids are like dogs, you can scold them for writing on the walls, flushing 18 green army men down the toilet, or using your shoe as a hiding spot for a half eaten ice cream sandwich.But those little buggers come right back, tail wagging, and want to play some more. Friday, Conner and I were playing slap-jack when he announced a stoppage in play to go the bathroom, not unusual. I was pouring us some juice when I first heard the call to doodie. ‘Grandpa, i’m done’ I said o.k. A minute went by and heard the second call to doodie, in a little voice with a little more ergency. ‘Graaandpaaaa,i’m dooonnnne’. So I said good, and get out here so we can finish this card game, Sponge Bob is on in ten minutes. We like to watch that show together. Another minute went by, and I was still clueless until he asked me to come into the bathroom. I figuredthere was going to be a flood or a glob of hand lotion were it wasn’t suppose to be. As I opened the door the first thing that hit me was the smell of a successful number two, and the king perched on his throne confirmed the event that had just taken place. Call to doodie. Well, if you’re a parent or grandparent of a four year old, you know sometimes they’re little arms just aren’t long enough to finish the job, so to speak. I almost had him wait until his grandma got home, but that wasn’t until Sunday. Well, we made it through the ‘call to doodie’ and finished our card game, then watched TV until the wee hours of the morning, don’t tell his mom. No matter what, I love my grand kids.