My name is Kevin Jonathan Rodriguez. I am two years, one month and some change old, and it’s my turn. I am representing all the kids out there who think it’s time someone gives credence to all the great grandparents, and God has chosen me to do it through my conduit – the big old guy, better known as Grandpa, whose name you might recognize from previous articles in this paper.
It all started when he gave my momma my first Dodger shirt before I was born. And a Laker romper suit and a Colorado Baby Buffs cap and, believe it or not, a Purdue pacifier (which is too babyish for me to use). And, of course, a baseball glove. Then, before you know it, he’s playing the guitar and singing to me and reading me books. Great, right? But at a month old? Soon - I must have been about six months - I am standing up on the piano bench and pounding on the electric piano and shaking my bootie to the music.
Then there’s the music at church. He loves to hold me up high, while I am bopping to gospel-like hymns. He always wants to carry me out of the church so everyone can revel in the spotlight of everyone oohing and ahhing over how cute I am . I am kind of rambunctious in church. I like to prance up and down the pew and smile at all the pretty girls. Sometimes I talk when the priest is talking; other times I sit quietly on the pew and eat Cheerios. I’m pretty well trained.
Did I mention Sinatra music? He plays Frankie so much that I practically know all the songs by heart myself. Boy, where is Lady Gaga when I need her?
Take nap time. He started singing “Puff the Magic Dragon,”’ “The Marvelous Toy” and “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” Soon, at bedtime all I was hearing is “You want me to sing ‘Puff?’” Or “How about ‘Toy’ or ‘Rudolph?’”” or “Toy.” Or “Sing ‘Rudolph!’” Boy, he drive me crazy.
Don’t forget the trains. My Grandpa is nuts about trains. He has a picture of his 12-year-old son giving him a train for Christmas one year. Boy, did his eyes light up. Anyway, he had me working the transformer when I was about a year old. I loved it.
If that wasn’t enough, we also love cars, trucks and tractors. We play with them on the floor, and try not to put anything in our mouths. And did I mention trash trucks? Every Thursday, if he hears trash trucks, we have to run outside and follow them down the street, watching them with big eyes and waving at the drivers. “Make a lotta noise,” I laugh.
He also loves to take me to the park in the stroller or a Radio Flyer wagon. We ride the swings and go down the slide. But I know he can’t wait until we are playing ball. And I know what he really wants – me to pull HIM in the wagon.
And don’t forget “’
Sesame Street
Sesame Street
Sesame Street
Sesame Street
Then there is sports. I think I have seen enough football, basketball and baseball games to last me a lifetime, and I am only 2! I think his biggest thrill came last November when I sat in my high chair, raised my arms straight up and shouted “Go Irish!” during the Notre Dame-USC football game. There were tears in his eyes. And, of course, he was happy to learn that two of the first words out of my mouth were “Notre Dame!”
Grandpa always tells the one about learning the ABC’s. He said, “A” and expected me to repeat, “A.” But I said “B” so he said “C” and I said “D.” He had to tell that one to everybody. We have read almost all of the Dr. Seuss books. My favorite is “Green Eggs and Ham.” So I just love books and music and sports. I wonder where I got that from?
I can’t leave Grandma out. I have even more adventures with her.
She always talks about the day we were in the store when I was about 18 months, and I shouted out, “Diarrhea” – plain as day. Another time she was waiting for the illicit French fries (my mom does not like me to have junk food) at McDonald’s, and I smiled at an older gentleman next to us. He offered me a French fry. I took it. So when our French fries came, I gave him one back. It bowled him over. See? It’s the little things in life that count, Grandma said.
When we were in another fast food restaurant – my Grandma likes to take me out to eat – I shouted out, “I love my Grandma.” Do I know how to make friends and influence Grandma or what?
She was driving the other day and I was sitting in the back of the car in my seat, locked in, of course. The car was stopped, so I raised my head and said, “Waiting for a green light?” It kind of surprised her. Maybe she did not know I know my colors.
Then, of course, there are the T-shirts. I like the one I wore when I was a few months old: “Dude, Your Girlfriend is Checking Me Out.” Grandma’s favorites are: “What Happens at Grandma’s Stays at Grandma’s” and “That’s it! I’m going to Grandma’s!”
I have a few to tell on myself. There’s the time a couple of months ago that my mom explained to me that I am going to have a baby sister soon. (She arrived April 9, and she’s way too cute for my taste.) Then she showed me her little romper outfits (Notre Dame, of course) that my Grandpa bought her. I grabbed them and threw them in the trash. We all know who is king around here.
I go to Grandpa and Grandma’s house every Thursday and Friday to be babysat. But if Grandma goes out, she admonishes Grandpa to keep and eye on me. He usually wants to play, so if I take a nap, he comes in to make noise or do something to wake me up. But he denies to Grandma that he ever pinches me to wake me up. Right. He told my mom and dad that he and Grandma would babysit anytime, but he would not pay more than a buck an hour. He is not real bright. I have not told him yet that HE is supposed to get paid.
So that’s it, kids. Mom and Dad are still No. 1 in my heart, but you should think of all the things that your grandparents do with you and for you, and maybe you can write a column, too. It’s not that difficult, no matter what that big old guy claims.
Kevin Rodriguez’s Grandpa is Don Lechman of Torrance, a former reporter, critic and editor for The Daily Breeze.
No comments:
Post a Comment