No shoes but many special memories
WHEN the world seems all too crazy, it’s best to just sit back and focus on the things in life that bring us joy. And so it was during the week when the youngest grandson came for a sleepover, his mum realising at drop-off that she had forgotten his shoes.
No problems.
I’ll sort it.
Next morning, first up on the agenda is to go shopping for new sneakers.
Getting him from the carpark to the store in his socks could be an issue so I tell him, “We might have to get the old chariot out”.
“Chariot” meaning the stroller, which hasn’t been used in years.
Clearly in his little mind, he thinks of “chariot” as something else, not sure what but, in any case, the word sounds impressive, almost exciting even.
That is, until we arrive in the carpark and I open the boot to haul out the 2007 Volante Plus stroller with clear plastic sunroof, multiple layback positions and dual brakes.
The look of horror on his fouryear-old face says it all.
“I’m too big for that!
“I’m in big boys’ kinder now!”
OK, so he wasn’t exactly going to be doing a Charlton Heston, whip in hand, charging round the Coliseum drawn by six white horses.
“No, no, nooooo!,” he tells me.
So I try another tack.
“I’ll tell you what, if you let me wheel you in the pusher into the store, you can push me back to the car in it, OK?”
He remains unconvinced. Am not sure why.
“OK, I’ll get you a cookie on the way out.”
Nothing speaks louder to a little kid than the mention of food, in particular cookies.
“OK”, he says reluctantly as I help him climb in.
As we approach the store I feel compelled to explain to the girl at the entry why my passenger has no shoes.
Mainly because, in past careers, I’ve seen too people enter stores in thongs and walk out wearing brandnew sneakers courtesy of the old fivefingered discount.
Anyway, with our mission finally accomplished, we were good to go. Over the next few days we packed lots in.
Even a visit to an indoor market, where he homed in on a bag of Disney characters before ditching it in favour of squishy things which, when squeezed, forced the jelly-like contents to protrude from various orifices on their bodies. Eeeew!
This is a little boy who loves marshmallows but not the babyccinos that come with them, always asks for large cheddarmite rolls from the bakery even though he knows his tummy can only hold small ones and reckons the best food on earth is popcorn chicken.
He loves music blaring on the car radio and we sing along together even though neither of us knows the words and I’m half deaf anyway.
No idea if I’ll still be around when he turns 21, but I’m making the most of every minute.
The aim being that, in the end, it’ll be all the fun stuff he remembers best.
OK, SO HE WASN’T EXACTLY GOING TO BE DOING A CHARLTON HESTON, WHIP IN HAND, CHARGING ROUND THE COLISEUM DRAWN BY SIX WHITE HORSES