I am a little late with the post this week. There was a small tragedy at our house last weekend that needed to be handled. A murder took place followed by a memorial service for the departed.
Before you get all crazy, let me explain.... You all know that I babysit the Mini Me's children. I like to think that I am still pretty competent and reliable. My grandchildren, however, do their level best to prove me wrong. The children were playing with toys the other day, and I was in the room with them, busy with some paperwork. They seemed to be playing nicely, at least they were being relatively quiet. With the exception of Stitch, he has been very loud and animated when playing lately. He loves his Super Hero Action Figures. Apparently there was quite a battle between good and evil going on, and one of the Barbie's got in the middle of things. The next thing I knew, Max was screaming and showing me that "Courtney" (a renamed Barbie) had her head snapped off her body. This was definitely not a repairable injury. I have seen Doc work some true magic on the kids' toys over the years, but it wasn't going to happen this time! Anyway, Max was upset and Stitch was remorseful - sort of. He insisted that he didn't do it - Spiderman did it.
I tried to calmly explain that this one couldn't be glued or repaired. She suggested several methods of treatment, none of which I concurred with. So, in order to appease her some and calm her, I promised that we would have a proper funeral for "Courtney." It was suggested that we just throw her away (that came from Uncle Pook), but Max pointed out that you just can't say prayers over the garbage.
So, last Saturday we had a funeral at our house. Pook grudgingly dug the hole, although it wasn't quite the job he would like you to think it was - Barbie dolls are only 18 inches long. I was able to convince Max that we could wrap her doll in a beautiful piece of material which further decreased the size of the hole to be dug. The doll was considerably smaller than the box she had been placed in. Max selected a beautiful spot near the playground and the area where our old hounds were buried. Pook dug the hole - very grudgingly and five adults, Stitch (who was responsible for this scene) and Max stood around the hole while Max said a prayer and told us about her time with "Courtney". God I wish I had a picture of that scene! Periodically, one of us would start to giggle, the adults - not the kids! As the ceremony ended, Pook rolled his eyes at me and asked what was next. "First you make us bury the church lady's cat and now this!" That was promptly followed by Mini Me's observation that I had never gone to these lengths for any of my own children when they were small. That is true, but there is something special about grandchildren.
Truthfully, I cannot believe I orchestrated all of that. Better yet, I cannot believe that all those adults cooperated and/or gave in! Max has already moved on to other toys. The simplicity of children and their emotions can teach us all a great lesson. May you have a blessed week. Enjoy these last few weeks of summer with your children and grandchildren and remember how precious they are.
Wife, Mother, Mother, Mother, Mother, Mother, Mother, Mother, Nurse, Grandmother, Friend...that's me in a nutshell!