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About the Author

Gwumpa Stories

I'm a gwumpa. A grandfather, more precisely, but to those who matter to these stories, I'm simply Gwumpa. Those are the ones who sing with me when no one else is around to hear my squawking. The ones who think that a dusty old model car is a trophy for winning a racing event, even when told the car was actually a gift from someone long ago. The ones who look at their mom and dad and then at me, and play, "spot the differences" in their heads. The ones who carry on my parents' legacy. I'm very aware of how precious are the moments of clarity the little ones bring to us - if we are tuned in enough to listen to what we are hearing. That's why this site exists... to help me remember this as my life force ebbs and wanes. Perchance to bring a smile to your face. Maybe you have the honour of recognising these these moments, too, with your own children and little grandbitties. If so, you are blessed indeed. Peace and awareness to you , always.

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Balance of power

Grandboy: I sorry I drew on things. I can have my markers back now? I neeeeed to color my pictures.

Me: I don’t know where your markers went. That’s between you and your momma.

Mamasan: Use your crayons.

Grandboy: Gwumpa, I can have my legos now? I pick them up I promise.

Me: You tell your momma. You left them out and that’s why they’re put up. I’m not part of that 🙂

Mamasan: [looks at the boy]

Grandboy: I go color with my crayons now.

The balance of power has been established and maintained. All is well with the world.

Eggloo

Grandboy, after stealing all my white pillows and arranging them on the white bed cover:

“Gwumpa, I make a EGGloo to live in. See my EGGloo? Know why it’s a EGGloo?

Because my penguins live in it and they lay EGGS.

EGGS, Gwumpa.EGGS.”

Pushing kids on swings

Just heard the saddest comment.

Some fella said something like, “if I leave early (from work) all I’ll be doing is pushing the kids on swings, grumble grumble grumble.”

I can’t even start to explain to him how precious a gift this is, especially considering the alternatives I’ve lived through, and many alternatives I’ve been blessed to be prevented from experiencing.

He’ll learn soon enough tho

Children teach quantum physics

If you’re ever wondering how quantum physics and children (particularly grandchildren) are alike, consider this:

  1. You can measure where the child is, or how quickly he or she is running around the house, but never both at the same time.
  2. Given the amount of time the child enters a room and the time an object is broken or a cookie jar in a different location is opened, you can only conclude the child was at both places at the same time.
  3. You don’t know if the child is awake or asleep at naptime until you open the door to find out.
  4. Observing the child alters his or her behaviour (see previous point).
  5. When the child falls down and skins his or her knee, your heart hurts instantly, regardless of distance.  That’s very spooky.
  6. A child’s state is passionately happy, sad, angry, hungry, you name it.  But this is always compartmentalised, and never anything in between.
  7. Watching the child play with others (especially in a large group) leads to the conclusion that the individual child has particle properties as he or she asserts his or her self.  But the child also has wave properties as he or she disappears in the crowd and reappears at will.
  8. The smaller the child is, the more uncertainty you encounter.  However at the macro level, uncertainty is never removed.

Photo credit: Some rights reserved by erix!

Lion in wait

The sunlight pokes its fingers through the blinds as the grandboy tigger-bounces into the bedroom.

“GWUMPA gwumpa wot you doin? Wot you doing gwumpa?”

“Sleeping.”

“WHY?  The sun is up time to get up.  Wot you doing gwumpa?”

“Lying in bed, boy, lying in bed.”

“A LION?!?!?” he misunderstands on purpose, “Quick HIDE hide gwumpa!!” [jumps onto the bed and scrambles under the covers, elbows and knees strategically finding their way in all my soft spots]

“SHHHHHH” he shushes at the top of his whisper voice.

Quiet.

More quiet.

Then, a little hand pokes out from under the blanket, and i hear a muffled, “wrrunnn”.

‘What?” I pull up the blanket.

“I SAAIIIDDD, I need a wrench.”

“Why do you need a wrench?”  and hand him an imaginary wrench.

“SHHHH.” He scoots back under the blanket.

Another tiny hand pokes out, and a shouty voice, “SCREWDRIVER!”

I hand him a screwdriver.

Again the hand and voice, “ANOTHER KIND OF SCREWDRIVER!”

I lift the blanket and ask, “Sooo what happened to the lion?”

“GWUMPA.” pulls the blanket back on himself but not all the way, “You can’t drive away from the lion in a bwoken jeep.  I fixing the jeep but be quiet or the lion eat you.”

And so the day begins 😀


Photo credit: Some rights reserved by Tambako the Jaguar