Grandma Henke

 I’m in love with my grandsons. I only have three out of fifteen grandchildren but they are totally awesome and absolutely make up for what they lack in numbers.

Steele just turned seven and is probably the biggest philosopher of them all, and his hobby is to read and then spout facts. Some of the facts he spouts are actually quite interesting, like the “rock bugs”, but most of the time his facts he remembers correctly.

He has one speed, well maybe two speeds; slow and slower. Here are two conversations I overheard today.

First one: When the toilet flushed in the next room his mother called out, “Steele, don’t forget to wash your hands!” “I am,” Steele replies and we hear the faucet turn on, water splashing, and then a pause while he dries his hands.

After a minute his slow shuffle brings him to the door of my bedroom where his mother and I are sitting on the bed chatting. He leaned against against the door and sighed … then sighed again. Finally, in his slow, western, slightly nasal drawl he says, “Uh, (sigh) I think I accidentally clogged the toilet.”

“What? Is it running over?” shouts his Mom as she jumps from the bed.

Sigh … pause … “Y e a h”  he slowly answers.

Second conversation takes place a little while later.

“Steele did you pick up all your toys, fold your blanket, put the moon sand away, and pick up the books, blah blah blah?” his mother quizzes.

Steele looks up in distress and says, “I did it all but the blah blah blah, I didn’t know I had to do that. What is blah blah blah anyway?”