Just for fun, the boys and I thought we’d pay my mother a visit last Thursday. Although she’ll tell you otherwise, Mom just loves it when I bring the kids by.
For kicks and giggles, I had Huey, my animated and free-loving child, phone my mother from just outside her house.
“Grandma,” he said in his best sing-song voice, “we’re here, Grandma. Yes, we’ve come to see you. What do you mean you’re not home, Grandma? Your car is on the driveway. Yes, Grandma, we’re coming to the door. Hear that thunderous stomping, Grandma? That’s us on your front porch.”
He just loves to make Grandma happy.
Although the boys were a little loud and perhaps a bit wound up from their day at school, I thought the visit went well. Lawrence entertained with his impersonation of a chicken, Huey used a Coke to do his own rendition of Old Faithful, and although Little Charlie’s handstands came painstakingly close to the china cupboard, there was a sense of love in the air.
Meanwhile, I sat and enjoyed the opportunity to clean my cuticles, organize my purse and purge old numbers from my cell phone.
“Do you have to leave already?” my mother asked out of the blue. The boys and I looked at each other with confusion. I looked at the clock and then back to Grandma. “Why, no!” I answered with glee. “We still have 45 minutes to kill.”
“It’s just that I’d hate to keep you,” Mom said. “I know how terribly busy you are.”
“Never too busy for you, Mom,” I said as I patted her on the knee and started to apply a fresh coat of nail polish.
“Yeah!” said Lawrence, echoing my sentiments. “We just love to visit you, Grandma. Hey, guess what? Mom said I could spend the night with you tomorrow night.”
“Oh, boy!” exclaimed Charlie. “I’ll spend the night too. We’ll bring Cokes and candy. Won’t that be fun, Grandma?”
“Yes,” said Huey as he raced over to his grandma on his knees. “I can be here too. It’ll be the best slumber party ever. We’ll stay up all night and watch old movies and you can tell us stories and make us fudge.”
Mom didn’t answer – not right away. With her grandchildren gathered at her side and jumping up and down, she seemed to be struggling for a response. Then she coughed, patted herself on the chest and said in her best hoarse voice, “I’m afraid you won’t be able to spend the night. It pains me to say it, but I’m afraid that your grandfather and I have taken ill.”
“That’s no problem, Mom,” I replied as I held my manicured hand up to the light. “The boys have had all of their shots.”
“You don’t understand,” she said as she stared at the boys, who were making a three-man pyramid in celebration. “We’re not well.”
“Nonsense, you and Dad are just barely in your 60s. You’re young, you’re vibrant, and I think a house full of little boys is just what you need to liven things up around here.”
“Oh no!” Mom continued. “I feel a sore throat coming on, that’s it. Yes, it’s definitely a sore throat, and I think it could be catchy.”
“I’m beginning to think that you don’t want my little dears to spend the night.”
“Well, the last time, they tied me to the chair.”
“Well, it was your fault for sitting still while my boys ran around you with the rope,” I said in their defense. “Besides, my friend Trixie’s mother watches her kids all the time. Trixie’s mother dresses the kids and feeds them broccoli. In fact, the last time Trixie returned, the kids were glowing from good nutrition and had learned Latin as a second language.”
“Really?” replied Mom with sarcasm worthy of a teenager. “Well, Trixie’s mother sounds like a great gal; perhaps she’ll take your kids too.”
Just for fun, I took the kids by Mom’s house the next day at 4 p.m. As we waited across the street in the car, I handed young Huey my phone and said in a low voice, “You know what to do.”
“Grandma?” he said when she answered it, “We’re on our way over to see you.”
Just then her front door flew open and my mom and dad rushed outside. Mom had her purse in one hand and her crossword puzzle in the other and she was taking the stairs at the speed of light. Dad raced on ahead to back out the car.
It’s fun to see one’s parents still so full of energy and zest for life. You know, they moved pretty darned fast for people in their 60s who claimed to be sick.
Lori Clinch is the mother of four sons and the author of the book “Are We There Yet?” You can reach her at www.loriclinch.com.