Words of wisdom from my four-year-old grandson.
I saw him off this morning, along with his mom, on this final day of 2016. Freezing my ass off at the departure gate of the Logan Airport in Boston. They were headed back to 70-degree weather in their home in Tampa after spending two, glorious weeks with Grandma and Pop Pop in frigid New England.
Glorious for us. Maybe not so much for them.
Lil Guy had been looking forward to building a snowman. Unfortunately, Mother Nature wasn’t on the same page. Although we did get a meager dusting and a few snow showers during their visit, there was just not enough for snowman construction.
No matter. It was too freaking cold anyway. And after two weeks of grey skies, bitter cold, and biting wind, Lil Guy had had enough.
On their last full day with us, we ate breakfast at Cracker Barrel, did some cursory after-Christmas shopping, and were on our way home for lunch and Lil Guy’s nap (during which Grandma and Lil Guy’s mom planned one, last happy hour at our favorite local watering hole). The sun had braved its way through the twenty-degree chill, and was lighting up all the ice-covered, bare-branched trees to a sparkling light show. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and I pointed it out to my grandson.
“Look, Eddie. Look how pretty the ice on the trees looks in the sun,” I said, my words muffled only slightly by the scarf partially covering my freezing face.
Lil Guy looked around and nodded. Then he replied, “Yeah. And then, there’s frog poop.”
Okay, so talk about knocking the wind out of your sails. What’s the saying? Out of the mouths of babes . . .even at four, this little man knows exactly how he feels about life. And isn’t afraid of voicing his opinion. And has determined what part of the country he wants to spend his life in.
Not a snow baby, for sure.
I still think the sparkle of ice on bare branches is magically beautiful. Now, though, I realize not everyone can ignore the other, contributory factors to the production of this ice show.
Numbing, bone-chilling, freeze-your-ass-off cold.
And then, there’s frog poop.
Here’s wishing everyone within the reach of my words a blessed, peaceful, and joyous New Year.