A Smile

My grandson, aged all of five, called me today to thank me for a cookie in a tin I'd sent home with his mother from work. Just a little something I picked up at Wally World, mostly because he likes soccer and the tin said, "I Like Soccer."

I'm nothing if not imaginative.

Anyway, he thanked me, and I told him I loved him, to which he courteously replied that he loved me too, although I could tell his attention was more focused on the cookie which he knew he couldn't have until post-lunch.

"You know what?" I asked?

"What?" he replied. Kid's sharp as a tack.

"You know what I tell people about you?"

"What?" (if it ain't broke, figures Camo...)

"I tell people that you make the sun rise every morning."

"Oh." (I can practically hear the visions of chocolate chips in his head.)

"You should tell your mommy I said that."

"Okay."

Now, from my end of the phone, I hear Cameron telling his mother what I said. She asks him, amused, "Grandma says you make the sun rise?" "Yep," says the king of one-word answers. "Well, do you?" his mom asked.

In a tone of suddenly intense exasperation (the cookie IS waiting, after all), Camo bursts out,

"I don't know!!!!"

ROFLMAO.

BTW, as I was finishing this, he called to inform me that the cookie "was DELICIOUS!" Smart kid; he knows flattery will get him everywhere.

I think the DH taught him that.

I Oughta Be Working

But I thought I take a few moments and share some Camo-isms with you. My grandson is seriously smart, the kind of smart that can get people around him in trouble, because it's dang hard to keep a straight face when you'll need to. Since you don't need to, I'll tell them to you.

A couple of days ago, Camo called his other grandma, who to him is Nonni, and informed her that he would like her to come over and play with him. She was in the middle of something and told him she couldn't come, but offered a raincheck of sorts. She told him he could come over the next night and spend the night with her.

Camo's response? I quote, "Hold on a second. That's not what I said!" ROFL Can't you just hear the indignation?

But one I enjoyed even more happened a couple months ago, around the time he hit the ripe age of four and a half.

Since he was in his second year, his mother, my DD, had him as her voice mail message. You could faintly hear her prompting him in the background as his little voice said, "We're not here right now. Leave a message, and we'll call you back." All with slight hesitations, but still pretty clear for his age.

I had mentioned to DD that as he got older, she should update the message, but still using him. So I was very surprised when I called, got her voice mail, and the voice in the message was her. I left my message for her, and expressed my surprise that Camo was no longer on there.

A couple hours later, she calls me back. First she responds to my reason for calling her, then says, "Oh, and you want to hear about my incoming call message?" Why yes, sez I. She then tells me that she too thought it was time for Camo to update. So she erased the old message, then asked him to come record a new one with her. He looked up at her, and informed her that he was "not in the mood."

Not in the mood? Not in the MOOD?!? How hysterical is that? I laughed until I cried...he's four years old, for cripes sakes. What moods does he have other than happy, sad, mad or frustrated? Oh, how funny! Not in the mood.

Maybe his muse just wasn't on him. You can't rush those things, ya know.

The Week that Was

It's been a busy week. Last Saturday, we loaded the UHaul - twice, as it turned out - and moved to the new studio. It looked like a cyclone had hit! But the DH and I spent Sunday getting the reception area cleared out and setting up the computers, so when Tuesday came and we opened, we looked ready. We replaced most of the images on the walls with our own, and they looked wonderful under the new lighting. We could never have done it without the help of family and friends/employees, and we are deeply grateful. One guy, Silent Steve, we'd never even met before, but he came along in the wake of our daughter and SIL.


After our first week, we're already feeling very at-home in the studio. We're reaching for light switches on the right side of the door, and remembering to turn off the copier before we leave. We don't have Karate Kids yelping next door, and the DH is still drooling over his camera room. It has come together so well that we both have the feeling it was meant to be.


So Monday, we needed a break, and had promised to take our adorable and bright grandson, Cameron, to see Horton Hears a Who. I loved the story as a kid, and am a fan of the cast, so I felt sure I'd have a good time. But the fun wasn't the the movie, but Camo. As soon as we got him in the handoff from his mom at noon, and started down the road, he informed us he was hungry. There wasn't time before the show to get a meal, so I told him we'd have popcorn at the movie. I was sternly informed that, "Popcorn is a snack, not a meal. Chicken nuggets and fry-fries are a meal." I, ladies and gentlemen, had been TOLD. However, Camo did manage to deal with the popcorn he was purchased by his Poppa. Sorry for the lousy quality; cell phones are NOT what we usually work with for portraiture. Anyway, after the show, he got his definition of a meal. :-)


I have found in life that for every yin there is a yang. There is balance in the universe, however we humans try to screw with that. So for all this good news, there is a counterweight.


Last year, my father-in-law, Bill, was diagnosed with a very rare, extremely aggressive form of skin cancer called Merkel Cell. He underwent chemo, and all the scans showed that against all odds, he'd won his fight. Even the areas where it had spread were gone. We all drew a breath of relief. But a follow-on scan saw something in his colon which further investigation proved to be a cancerous polyp. Surgery was planned.


We got a call midweek from the DH's older brother. He told us Bill had been taken to the ER, very disoriented. At first it was thought that it was a glitch with his Parkinson's meds, but it turned out to be much worse. A CT scan showed four discrete lesions on his brain. He's having trouble feeding himself, and controlling other functions as well. It has to be hell on a man I've always seen as so dignified.


Radiation is planned. I assume the colon surgery is on hold, but we haven't heard yet. I'd like to ask for your prayers for the man who raised my wonderful husband, and inspired him to become a photographer. Prayers for his wife of 51 years, who has loved this man since she was 11. And for their four children, because I don't think any of us are grown up when it comes to facing the loss of a parent.