Grandchildren are the most wonderful creatures. They certainly make you sit up and take notice of what you may have caused inadvertantly to have been unleashed upon the land. My own grandchildren are both less than five years old. Between the two of them they count about seven years total, but they seem to have life down fairly well already. How is it that one of such a venerable age as myself can be so intimidated by just speaking on the phone to such an elvish little creature that I am left speechless. The conversations are very mature in the sense that I find them very one-sided with room only for a few 'Yeahs' and 'Nos' and 'Oh, reallys?' on my part while the words gush out from the other end of the line covering all manner of subjects from Spongebob Squarepants (of whom I know very little) to the weather to medical conditions and the treatment thereof (scraped knees, cut fingers, poked eyes, etc.) These are certainly special conversations and will be treasured in my mind for the rest of my life. And they also know how to put down hecklers (parents) in the background by simply shouting 'No!' or 'Would you please be quiet? I'm on the phone!' It's funny how this works for a three-year-old, but not a fifty-three-year-old. And last, but not least, you learn interesting things about your children (parents of these elvish delights) by simply listening. You don't even have to ask to learn that daddy got a ticket for speeding or mommy rocked on the cat's tail and threw her dinner plate across the room. Interesting. Very interesting. Gotta love 'em.
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