Sunday 18 June 2006

Father's Day.  It's been an excellent one.  The only thing better than being a father is being a grandfather.  There are all sorts of advantages.  For instance, this is the first time in the history of my fatherhood that I've made it home from church with my Father's Day cookie intact.  Up to now I've had to divide it between my begging, hungry children.  Eli still begged, but he was old enough this year to realize that he didn't have a valid claim.

Nathan called today and was marveling at how fast Josiah moves from one piece of mischief or from one danger point to another.  "He's impossible to keep up with," Nathan complained.

When we had the Bradford boys for several hours this week, Hyrum got out of sight for several minutes while his grandmother was on the phone with Amy.  When Margie went in the living room to see what he'd been doing, she was stunned.  All of her plants were out of their pots, and dirt was everywhere.  It was incredible.  She began cleaning up the mess, but with Hyrum right behind her, she quickly realized that she was rapidly losing ground.  Being a grandmother, she simply rounded up the four boys, took them home, and came back to do the cleaning.

Mothers don't have that luxury.

 

We took a family walk up to Willow Creek.  The adults sat on the green, grassy hill and watched a dozen children wading in Willow Creek.  Gracie ran through a deep place and was soaking wet from head to toe.  Being a grandfather, I didn't have to worry about it.

I also didn't have to worry about cleaning Micah's shoes after he stepped in some fresh cow manure.

I found myself getting sleepy in church today.  Baby Maurianne was fussing, so I asked to take her out.  She quit fussing, I woke up, and her mother got to listen to the sermon.  It was a win-win situation for everyone.

People at church wonder why I always have a grandbaby in my arms.  It's my big secret.  Grandbabies keep the Sunday School instructor from calling on me, or from giving me assignments.  If the High Priests group instructor is impossibly boring, or if the class know-it-all is present, a baby can be counted on to provide a handy escape.

If the reason for leaving the class is a dirty diaper, grandfathers aren't ever expected to change it.  That's a parent's job.

It's amazing how beautiful and how smart and talented my grandchildren are.  There's never been a collection like them anywhere.  My quiver is full.  I'm a happy man.  Fatherhood is great, but grandfatherhood is sublime.  Grandfathers have all the joys without the responsibilities.