Flower Child

Zane came to visit the other day.  It was one of the few sunny days we've had this month.  It wasn't hot, but at least it was warm enough to be outside without freezing to death or getting wet.  So, it was a good day to plant some flowers, and I figured Zane could help me.  Kids like to dig and play in the water, don't they? 

I already had the petunias I wanted for the front window boxes.  So, armed with digger, watering can, flowers and hose, we started planting. I thought we could have a nice time together digging and planting and taking our time at it, but it turned out that I planted those petunias as fast as I could, since Zane only wanted to dig where I had already planted the petunias and his idea of handing me the plants to put in the hole was to first pull off the dirt, then hand me the rest. 

The watering he got down fine, until he wanted to water ME.

Here's another cute Zane story.  Before we starting planting together I was putting some plants in at the back of the house, and got my hands dirty.  Being too lazy to run inside and wash, since I might miss something cute Zane did, I rinsed them off in the water sitting on the base of the basketball hoop, into which Zane was putting flowers he was pulling off. The next thing I knew was was going to my scattered dirt and putting both hands in it, just so he could go rinse them off like "Maury", which is his current name for me.  I might like to keep this one. 

Oh, there's more.  From here, Zane and his folks went to see "Papa", which is the name Grampa gets.  Zane got a ride on the excavator and crawler tractor, and when it was time to leave, didn't want to go. 

Another day, Lynette and I went to Grand Island to shop, of course we stopped in to see Zane and family.  Zane was in his little pool that he and his mom had filled by the bucket with warm water.  As soon as we came, he got himself out of that pool so fast we didn't know what was going on.  He ripped off his wet things and started hollering for a shirt.  Then he started saying, "going to Maury's house".  He got himself all dressed, demanded his flip flops put on and was ready to go.  Sadly, we weren't going home, we were going shopping and we sure didn't want him along. But, that desire to be with me, oh, what a feeling!

That's the message today.  Grandchildren do something that no child does to their parents.  I don't know if it is the fact that they are an extension of our aging selves, the evidence of our heritage going on, or just the fact that they are OURS and are so stinking cute.  But, what I do know, is that tugging of the heart strings, that joyful and painful feeling when we look at our grandchildren, makes it all worthwhile.