So I have mentioned my son, how funny he is, and how smart he is. My mother, although I think she believes it to be true, jokingly calls him “Baby Genius”.
It is difficult to talk about my son with out mentioning his sidekick and road-dog, my grandmother.
Let me paint a picture for you: think three stooges (where instead of three individuals each being one stooge, there are two individuals each being 1.5 stooges) meets Batman and Robin. If you turn your head to the side and squint, it works. Now throw in Bonnie and Clyde. Ruckus all day.
My son loves his Granny. He realizes that she is my grandmother. He just may not realize that she is nearly 20 TIMES his age. This is where the funny comes in, because I don’t think she realizes it either.
The fact that they have sat on the bed and discussed “the fire” of ’48 (arbitrary year, but a later post, too sad for this one) as my son rested his hand on hers in a comforting gesture. The fact that they sit and watch cartoons for HOURS on end. The fact that sometimes I feel like they both need to get somewhere and sit down!!!!! (GRANDMA, YOU ARE NOT THREE!). The fact that when I consider the facts, I am more than warranted in calling them the dynamic superhero, outlaw clan THE GERIATRIC AND THE BABY GENIUS.
More to come.