Grandboy: Gwumpa that’s cool. I wanna try.

Me: Ok, wait a minute.

Grandboy: Hey that’s like a giant robot. I wanna try, Gwumpa

Me: Watch what happens when I JUMP

Grandboy: AAAUGH that’s COOL GWUMPA I WANNA TRY PLEASE

—

Thanks Thinkgeek.com. Now he will get exercise for hours, and I know where he’s at at all times. I should have bought more Mega Stomp Panics!

Grandboy: AAAUGH!!!

Me: What are you doing?!

Grandboy: This rolling pin landed on my back.

Me: Boy, I’ve never seen a rolling pin involved in so much activity in one weekend. I need to put that thing up.

Grandboy: It’s ok, it’s not the rolling pin’s fault. It was GRAVITY.

Me: Well you know what I’m not allowing here on your next visit. GRAVITY. That’s causing a lot of problems.

Grandboy (carefully flattening his cold piece of pizza with a rolling pin)

Me: Why are you smashing your pizza with a rolling pin? Don’t goof around. Eat your pizza.

Grandboy (licks the rolling pin): I AM GWUMPA. Look at me eating it. It’s yummy

Me: Who gave you this thing, anyway?

Grandboy (holding my rolling pin): Gwumpa what’s this thing?

Me: It’s a rolling pin. You can use that to make cookies.

Grandboy: Or smack bad guys (gives a noisy demonstration)

Me: Or do both.

Grandboy (stops, thinks): O yah I can MAKE cookies, then GIVE them to the bad guys so they’ll be too busy to be bad.

Me: There you go.

Grandboy: And THEN I smack them while they’re eating.

Me: Oi boy. You’re not getting my vote as police chief.

Grandboy is unhappy that I call him by his alter ego’s name. That would be “Mister Attcheu”.

As in “Mad Attcheu”

As in “Gwumpa! I’m Mad Attcheu”

Usually said with a frowny face.

Grandboy (holding up an old watch he found in the truck’s center console bin): Hey Gwumpa does this watch still work?

Me (looking over at the watch, noticing the second hand isn’t moving): No, it’s stopped. I think it needs a new battery.

Grandboy: Oh! Can I have it?

Me (thinking, “Awwww he wants to be like his grandpa”): Sure, will you take care of it?

Grandboy: Well, I wanted to crush it to see what would happen.

—-

Ok so maybe he’s a little more like me than I thought he’d be.

(We watch an advert for a phone app that scans one’s surroundings to warn if one is going to trip over something)

Grandboy: Wow that’s a cool idea.

Me: I have an app that works even better than that. Want to see it?

Grandboy: SURE

Me (pull out my phone): Watch carefully. (Open the screen)

Grandboy (leans over): Let me see.

Me (push button to close the screen): It’s called the “Put yer phone in yer pocket when walking” app.

Grandboy: Ahhhhh I get it.

Me: And your phone doesn’t even have to be on when you use it. That’s what makes it better than the one we just saw. Nothing’s so important that you have to be moving while you’re reading your phone.

Grandboy: You should tell people.

Me: I might just do that, boy…

Grandboy: Gwumpa hold on. Please wait. I have something in my shoe.

Me: It’s probably your foot.

Grandboy: AAAAUUGH

Me: Ok, I’ve ordered the food. It’ll be here soon.

Grandboy: Awww I’m hungry NOW. Make me some Gwumpa Oatmeal…!

Me: No, food’s on the way. Just wait please.

Grandboy: HUNGRY NOW I want food. Oatmeal, pleeeeese gwumpa? Gwumpaaaa…..

(this goes on for a while)

Me (angrily calculating): Ok. Fine.

Grandboy: Huh?

Me (I make a quick batch of oatmeal, and speak while making it): You’ll get the oatmeal. It’s made the same way as always. Same ingredients. Same way. But you won’t like it.

Grandboy (puzzled): Why? You make it the same way but it won’t taste the same?

Me: No. Because I DON’T want to make it for a shouting, screaming little boy. But I’ll make it. And you’ll see what I mean. (I set steaming bowl of food down in front of him)

(I go back to cleaning, but stop after hearing a noise)

Me: What are you doing?

Grandboy (putting a mostly-uneaten bowl of oatmeal in the fridge): I’m thinking I maybe don’t deserve this Gwumpa. I’m saving this for later when I think I’ll deserve it. I think it’ll taste better then.

Me: Good thinking, boy (hug)

Me: O hey please stop touching the walls. I just had them painted.

Grandboy: Ok Gwumpa.

Me: Ok stop touching the walls. Your hands are greasy and I’m trying to keep the new paint clean.

Grandboy: Ok Gwumpa, sorry.

Me: No, really, STOP TOUCHING THE WALLS when you walk past them.

Grandboy: Ok Gwumpa.

Me: PLEASE STOP! TOUCHING! THE! WALLS NOW!!

Grandboy: AAAUGH GWUMPA WHY YOU GOTTA SHOUT?!? YOU’RE BEING RUDE! JUST ASK NICELY NEXT TIME OK?!?

Grandboy (ear pressed against the asphalt): HEY GUYS! Can you hear… I heard a KRKRRRDKDRK sound in the earth. What IS that?!?

Me: O that’s probably one of the Under Ground people. You may be listening in on a conversation here.

Mamasan: And maybe THAT’S why I’m a paranoid adult. Thanks, Dad

Grandboy (eating ice cream in a cone): Yum.

Me: Why is it called, ‘Ice Cream’?

Grandboy: Cuz it’s cold. Like ice. And it’s got CREAM.

Me: So it should be called, ‘Creamy Ice’.

Grandboy: YAH Gwumpa I’ll call it ‘Creamy Ice’ from now on. (pretends to be ordering food) Hello please may I have some creamy ice?

—-

Wait til I tell him about flutterbys

Grandboy (preparing to show me something on Roblox): Gwumpa stay here. Don’t leave the room. I’m going to take you on a tour.

Me: Is it a three hour tour?

Grandboy: It’s a… what?

Me: Is it a three hour tour?

Grandboy: No Gwumpa

Me: Will the weather get rough? On the three hour tour?

Grandboy: What? No Gwumpa it’s nice outside. And I SAID NOT THREE HOURS. Maybe 5 minutes.

Me: Will the Minnow get lost?

Grandboy (exasperated): Gwumpa I don’t know the things you say sometimes. Just look at my tour but don’t ask any more questions please.

Grandboy (holding toy that’s been in a box for years now): Gwumpa I’m old enough NOWWWW to play with this?

Me: Not yet. Let’s see how you behave for a while yet.

Grandboy: Awwww you ALWAYS say that Gwumpa. (Brilliance ensues) How ’bout when I’m 8 years old? Can I open it when I’m 8?

Me (counter brilliance ensues): How ’bout we wait til you’re 8, and then I can answer the question?

Grandboy: YESSSS! I GET AN ANSWER WHEN I’M 8

(Watching nature show)

Grandboy: Gwumpa that wolf is going to kill that baby deer.

Me: Ayep

Grandboy: Go baby deer go

Me: O no now the cute baby wolf cub will die. It hasn’t eaten in weeks and needs food.

Grandboy: Oh

Me: No wait, the wolf is catching up! Go Wolfie go

Grandboy: Ah and now the baby wolf will have food now.

(Thinking)

Grandboy: That’s how it is, huh? Some things eat and some things get eaten.

Me: Yep. The important thing for them is to know which one is which pretty quickly.

—-

Nature shows mimic politics

Me (purposely singing loudly and off-key, and in odd registers)

Grandboy: WOW GWUMPA I love your singing!

Me (more bellowing)

Grandboy (holding up a toy person): But she HATES the singing. Not me though. I LOVE the singing!