Of my four sons, two have gifted me with a 2 1/2-month-old granddaughter (Gianna) and a 6-month-old grandson (Kamari). Being a grandpa, I now have to make healthier breakfast choices to set a proper example and hopefully stick around for a long time to enjoy them and vice versa. But, despite my efforts, I still have an affinity for Ohs cereal, my sugary serenity. Can’t beat that taste and texture.
But why, oh why, is it the most expensive box in the cereal aisle?
And Gianna? She likes the good stuff. My Ohs. Not the Raisin Bran, Frosted Flakes, or other items she asks me to buy. She wants my Ohs.
The expensive stuff.
But I’m cool with that. Anything for my grandbeauty.
At first, it was ok. She would eat her bowl in the chair next to mine. And just like grandpa, she would turn up the bowl and drink the remaining milk. Like I said, I was cool with that. It was when she decided to jump to the final course that things got frustrating. Pour her a bowl of cereal, and she would turn it up immediately, drinking all of the milk. But she refused to eat the remaining, soggy cereal unless you added more milk. Then she’d drink that too and refused to eat the even soggier remaining amount.
So I stopped buying it for several weeks. Until this past weekend.
And when she asked for some, I told her that she couldn’t have any, unless she helped grandpa eat HIS. She ain’t wastin’ any more of my Ohs.
So I got my bowl and took it to the floor, in front of the TV.
And just like I promised, I shared every other spoonful with my grandbeauty.
The original intention was to give her every 3rd spoonful, which I tried.
That is, until it got good to her and she remembered how much she loved it, as well as my promise to let her “help me eat it”.
Before I knew it, she had taken the spoon out of my hand and began feeding ME.
Every 3rd spoonful.
When I asked for the spoon back she politely reminded, “Hush, Grandpa. I’m helping you eat it.”
I suppose that was fine, but before I knew it, what began as mine soon became community property as she walked over and shared a spoonful with “Unko” Jason…
…then “Unko” Kevin…
Realizing that “my” bowl, as well as my rations, were dwindling rapidly, I complained to her that grandpa needed more, only for her to shush me….
…and remind me, “Hush, Grandpa. I’m helping you eat it.”
Kamari: Silly man. Didn’t read the fine print on his own contract.
So I watched her climb into an empty laundry basket and continue working on that bowl until there was nothing left but milk, which she drank, AFTER the cereal was gone.
At least she did that right for a change.
Thinking back on my promise to her, I had nothing to say as she sat back in the basket, running her finger in the bowl and licking the milk off of her fingers.
So there I lay, remembering how it all started and knowing how and where it all went wrong. But I didn’t fuss over it because I knew that she had won the day once again.
“Grandpa, I wanna help you eat another bowl!” she offered excitedly.
Sighing and looking over at Kamari, I found comfort in the fact that it would be at least a year before he jumped into the fray to negate any claim I would hope to have on future spoonfuls of Ohs and other soon-to-be-announced favorites. Until then, he was just a bystander.
Kamari: Think again, old man. I’ll be ready sooner than you think.
So much for that thought.
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