Mike Parker: When Papa serves as a practice dummy, anything can happen
When my grandchildren come a-calling, I know what to expect. I stock the shelves and fridge. Sometimes I experience a brief moment of pity for the parents who must constantly feed these little critters.
Just one example will suffice. I bought a brand-new box of popsicles before Ben and Alli arrived last Sunday afternoon. As soon as they plopped their stuff down, they approached me with this pitiful plea:
“Papa, can we PLEASE have a popsicle?” The implication was clear. Mom has been starving her Munchkins.
What could I say?
Within their first 40 minutes, they had eaten two popsicles apiece from the package of 18. Alli is partial to cherry flavor. Ben is not so choosey, but he did eat at least one cherry popsicle just to annoy Alli. On Tuesday, Alli ate the last cherry frozen treat and then asked me to go to the store to buy more popsicles. Just before noon on Wednesday, the popsicle box was empty.
Most of my grandkids love to eat breakfast at Smith’s Café. Ben orders a pancake and bacon. Ben only needs one pancake since it is the size of a hubcap. Alli orders a bowl of plain rice, two pieces of toast, and bacon.
The rest of this story started Wednesday morning at Smith’s Café. As I sat with Ben and Alli at the Romeo (Retired Old Men Eating Out) Table, Alli got a little bored with the Romeo conversation. She decided to fill the attention void by putting a scrunchy in my beard. She clumped hair together, took a black scrunchy from her arm, and wrapped it around the hair she had gathered. When I left Smith’s, the black scrunchy was still in place. I thought – or at least hoped – “beard play” was over.
Never was I more wrong. When I got home and took my seat on the couch, I pulled up a kid’s show on Netflix. Instead of watching, Alli went to work braiding the right side of my beard. Her grandma gave her a plastic container of small pony tail holders. She divided that side of my beard into three pieces and started braiding. Once she finished braiding, she used a pony tail holder to keep the braid in place.
Why did she braid my beard instead of my hair? I do not have enough hair on my head to braid. In fact, the top of my pate is not quite as smooth as a baby’s bottom but close. I keep the hair on the sides cut short. So, my only braid-able hair is on my face.
Once she finished the right side, she moved to the left side. When she pulled the braid tight to apply the pony tail holder, I winced a bit. Then she got in front of me and started braiding the middle of my beard. This part of my beard made the thickest braid. Alli, of course, was oblivious to the fact she was blocking the TV. Since I am not a fan of most kid’s TV shows, I did not mind.
When she finished, I set my phone’s camera for a selfie so I could see Alli’s handiwork. Staring back was an elderly version of a short-haired Blackbeard. She made me promise not to take the braids out for a while, so I ended up making a trip into town with my braided beard. Those who saw me were amused. I explained to the gawkers:
“This is what happens when an 8-year-old granddaughter doesn’t have enough to do.”
Mike Parker is a columnist for Neuse News. You can reach him at mparker16@gmail.com.
