Peace, quiet and tornadoes
Igot the wake up alert exactly a week ago. All hands on deck. They’re here. Our family from OKC, also known as Oklahoma City, had arrived.
We have a quiet house. Very quiet. It’s more likely that the classical radio station will be playing rather than the Junior Disney channel. A lot of reading goes on sort of like a library. We do watch Lidia’s Kitchen, and Rick Steves’ travel show in the evening. The cooking shows instruct me how to put on weight in more delicious ways. But that’s it. No battling Fox vs. CNN. Once in a while Rachael (Madhouse) Maddow sneaks in, but less so recently.
And the kids had arrived oblivious to the “quiet please” sign hanging over the large bookshelf. There’s a very quiet 17-year-old. His more active pre-teen sister, a 3-year-old and the youngest at 15 months. I had covered my shelf of Indian pots with a sheet of opaque plastic figuring out of sight, out of mind. It worked. But the rest of the house became their playground especially for the two younger boys.
The first thing that went was the “quiet please” sign. It was torn down as the 3-year-old reached for a handhold as he climbed to the top of the bookshelf. In the other hand he held a copy of “The Life and Times of Dennis the Menace” that had been on the top shelf. Dennis, another young adventurer, is evidently his hero.
Meanwhile, his younger brother had found a kitchen knife and was seeing how it fit into the electrical plug in the living room. His dad, a STEM advocate, showed up in time to cancel the science experiment, so no one was injured.
I got to thinking about the role of grandparents in these situations. Perhaps I should get a room at Motel 6. But if I did, then I’d be missing family time. Maybe, I thought, there are some helpful books on grandparenting. So I went on Amazon to check out the warm and fuzzy advice books for grandparents who need help.
Wow. I found a treasure trove of how to books for grandpas but mostly for grandmas. Evidently, the tatas are not expected to read these types of books. Word had spread that they were likely to have registered at a nearby motel to be alone to watch the golf channel while the grandkids had their way with Grandpa’s butterfly collection.
Among the books available: Anna Quindlen’s “Nanaville,” “Grandma, Tell Me Your Memories,” and other grandma-centered books. It’s clear to Amazon that Grandpa is hiding in the garage. But that’s ok. While I admit to hiding at the grocery store, Grandma and mom were hiding at Walmart. This leaves dad and the two older kids to handle the youngsters. Granted these are not fair odds, but that’s life.
I did redeem myself by cooking snacks and meals. One night, without Lidia’s help, I prepared Italian-style tomato sauce from scratch. It went over thin spaghetti. The sauce was augmented by a large amount of ground beef since the OKC family and my dear wife enjoy carne. It was pretty good, and the fried red peppers made a tasty garnish.
The best advice about the grandchildren did not come from a book. It came from a friend. She said just accept the children and the parents the way they are. Best not to offer advice. Yes. You may intervene when the youngest is pushing over the tower fan. It’s OK to say something when the 3-year-old catches the helium balloon in your office fan. That was the loud pop you heard. Your role in these situations is to avoid a painful accident. Material damages are secondary.
Tornadoes originate in Oklahoma. Over time, the warning systems will be improved.