|If we only had remembered our tinfoil hats|
As a result, Buggy will not go outside to play unless he carries around a leafy tree branch or a turkey roster on his head to obscure his electrically monitored presence on the planet.
My grandchildren learn these “life lessons” from my wife, their grandmother. Wife-i-poo feels the need to exact revenge on our children by making parenting difficult for them. She gives our grandchildren all the messiest toys and gifts like paints, super slushy muck, and boogers in a box.
She gives the grand-kids whistles and harmonicas and games with a million tiny pieces. She loads them up on sugar just before their parents come to pick them up after a weekend at grammas house.
She lets them watch zombie movies and worse. PBS.
She tells our grand kids that clapping their hands and calling out for any lost object will make said lost object appear. Now instead of looking for stuff, our grand-kids (who already have genetic strikes against them) walk around the house yelling "Here shoe... (clapclapclap) here shoe..."
|No, not this kind|
The current unrealistic fear perpetuated by Wife-I-Poo concerns Elliens that will get you if you don't eat your vegetables, your chicken nuggets, or fail to control your lazy eye.
Frankly, in my heart of hearts, I am OK with a startled grand kid or two because it allows me to come in to save the day. grammpa to the rescue.
And grammpa should be the hero. When a raccoon's puppet on grammas lap comes to life and screeches bloody murder, the grand kids should come to me for armor, amor, raccoon-be-gone juice and a hand made Hogwarts wand to protect themselves. Grammpa knows what to do.
When they don't want to fall asleep because of dwarfs who will sneak in and put beans in their nose (another Wife-I-Poo story), grammpa teaches them to be proactive by putting old earplugs in their nostrils before they go to bed so that the beans won't take root.
And when Buggy won't go outside and play because of the Elliens, grammpa shares this secret; If you wash three dishes and put them away, the dish-washing soap will sink in and repel the Elliens child detectors so that grand kids may may freely roam the backyard.
Grampa needs some big guns
Not me, however. Maybe that’s why my own kids didn't believe me when I tried to disarm the influence of their own Elliens ten or so years ago. I hadn't been there much to counter those attacks.
But I am here now. I tell my grand kids, my second chance kids, the truth as I would like it to be — the truth I am trying to establish. And the truth is this — Elliens can’t get you at Grampa's house. When the Cracken was released, humankind countered by releasing grandparents — which is why there are a lot of grandparents left and no Cracken.
Ellians don’t like grandmas and grandpas because they know that grandparents have been around long enough to tan the hide of any space invader, zombie raccoon or nose dwarf.
Once we get this Elliens thing worked out, I am going to teach Buggy how to throw a solid defensive right to the chin — just in case he meets up with a real Elliens in an ally or at a Ute game.
It's about time I saved someone's day.