Becoming a grandad is a simple enough process.
It’s best to start as a young fellow and the trick is to get some female up the pole. This is quite a pleasant process and can [and will] be attempted many many times.
Once the dear girl is up the duff your path to grandadhood can be left to nature. Your spawn [or even a swarm of spawn] can be allowed grow to maturity whereupon they undoubtedly will head out on the same quest. And here is the good bit. As soon as they have produced issue then you may bask in the title of Grandad. While this is an honorary title, it may have a practical side too.
Yesterday I was sitting here doing a bit of idle nothingness when my phone rang. It was Daughter. She wanted to know if I could pick up GrandDaughter the Younger from school.
I should add a this point that Daughter has a new job. She is now officially a Carer, employed by our infamous health service, to care for the elderly and infirm in their own homes. This is a post she is over qualified for having spent twenty years as a carer of Grandson the Elder and also having worked with the ambulance service. Having done some extra training this was her first full week on the job itself. She’s loving it.
Back to the phone call. GDtY was complaining of tummy aches and her school wanted to know if Daughter could bring her home. Daughter of course was having a fine time bossing and terrorising the aged and infirm and could hardly just walk off especially as it was her first week. Hence the phone call. Could I collect GDtY from school and amuse her until Daughter was free? No problem. That’s what Grandads are for.
So I went up to the school and phoned the secretary to say I had arrived. She came out leading a very subdued GDtY by the hand. She [GDtY, not the secretary] was very quiet in the car which is unusual. Normally I would get a running commentary on life for the entire journey but not this time. Once home she climbed on the couch, curled up and went to sleep. This also very unusual as normally within a few minutes she would have the entire floor covered in toys and stuff and looking like a building site.
All was quiet for a while but GDtY suddenly sat up and puked all over the place. I rang Daughter to inform her of progress and her reply was “ah! So she does have a tummy upset?” Obviously Daughter thought GDtY was just pulling a sickie to get off school. Heh!
So the rest of the afternoon was spent rushing around with basins and kitchen paper and towels, interspersed with watching a very quiet subdued seven year old curled up on the couch. All I wanted to do was somehow make her feel better.
Now that’s what being a Grandad is really for.