There They're There

My four-year-old grandson, Nolan, had asked me if I was going to see Taylor, Kaden, and Zac, three of my other children, on the Saturday that one of them (Kaden) was celebrating his birthday. 

Every week I care for Taylor, Kaden, and Zac, so I told him that, yes, every time I'm there, they're there.

He said, "What does THAT mean?"

And I said, "What does what mean?"

He said, "There, they're, there. What does that mean?"

Don't you just love the English language?

Video is of Taylor, Kaden, Zac, Audrey, and Nolan singing a Christmas carol. 

The Coffee Thief

My grandson, Nolan, with his mommy (my daughter), Brittney

One of my grandsons, Nolan, has loved coffee ever since he first tried it (by sneaking it) at the age of 2. He's four and a half now. 

We have often found him sneaking off with somebody's coffee and hiding out in a corner or under the table drinking coffee. He doesn't care what kind of coffee we drink, either, whether it's his mom's heavily cream-flavored coffees, or his dad's black coffee. He just loves coffee.

Yesterday, when my daughter, Brittney, treated me to a frap from Starbucks, Nolan tried to sneak mine. I quickly grabbed it away, because I know that within seconds he will have downed the entire cup. He put on his pouty face, and Brittney told him he could have "a sip" of hers.

However, for Nolan a sip = 6 huge gulps and I said to Brittney, "I don't think Nolan understands the concept of "a sip."

This morning Nolan told his mom, "I just had a lot of your coffee, because I don't know what a sip is, right?" 

Automobiles and the Lemon Law

As my children will attest, I've never been very lucky when it came to automobiles, although I must admit I have learned from my mistakes. Probably the worst, and potentially fatal, car I owned actually belonged to my oldest daughter (and believe me when I tell you how fortunate it was that the "car" was not in her possession when it exploded). 

My three youngest kids and I were living just south of Chicago at the time. The engine literally blew up, and the car caught on fire. Fortunately when I first smelled something suspicious, I scrambled to get everybody out of the car, and I am eternally grateful that my oldest daughter who was 16 at the time, was not in the car. Having little driving experience, the smell might not have alerted her to danger. The fact that neither she nor I were driving down the expressway when it happened is another reason to be forever grateful.

Throughout the years, whether I was living in New York, Illinois, or California, I have had the worst luck with cars. One of them looked like a cloud of smoke (embarrassing), because it took 2 cans of oil a day, one of them required me to climb into the passenger seat because I had to belt the door to the steering column, and the doors on another auto would randomly open, for reasons unknown, WHILE WE WERE DRIVING!

Yes, I dealt with unscrupulous car dealers, and though I am more careful now, I should have taken advantage of the services provided by California Lemon Law attorneys. Lemon Law attorneys in California could have protected my interests and held those car dealerships accountable. 

I could have used them in Illinois as well. I have a feeling that one of the dealerships I dealt with while living in Illinois was served countless summons, because the whole dealership has disappeared. Even today, when I drove past the enormous lot on my way to Midway Airport, the lot sat vacant. I can't help but wonder how many lives that dealership endangered, because the lemon they sold me lost an engine, a transmission, AND a starter shortly after I bought it. 

Today I demand a SAFE car with an excellent transmission, engine, and starter. I also require good tires. But if ever I purchase another car that turns out to be a lemon, I guarantee you, I WILL take advantage of that Lemon Law! 

Another "Aww" Moment

Kaden & Zac Taking a Bubble Bath

Last night, when I asked Zac (4), one of my grandsons, to give me a hug goodnight, he raced up to me and jammed his head into my chin. My immediate response was "OW!"

His immediate response was to grab my face and ask, "Are you OK? Are you bleeding?"

My heart melted when I looked at him. Though he HAD to have been hurt, his first thought was for me. I held his little face in my hands and he started to cry. "Am I bleeding?" He asked. I told him no and hugged him.

"Will I get a bruise?" 

"Probably, Zac. Thank you for being so thoughtful." And he continued to cry while I held him some more.

Earlier in the day, Kaden (almost 7), Zac's older brother, brought home his backpack and I looked through his home work. When I read his paper about what he would do if he had $100, I almost cried.

People wonder why I watch my grandchildren so much. They think my kids are taking advantage of me by asking me to watch them so often. I'm grateful that I get to spend so much time with them. Can you see why?

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Present For My Parents

The Author of this post is Cheryl Martinez I live in California but I am originally from Philadelphia. My parents still live there, in the same house I grew up in. They are very frugal people and hardly ever do anything nice for themselves. I wanted to do something really special for them last year for Christmas, so instead of buying them some lame gift like I usually do, I went tohttp://www.directstartv.com/localchannels/Pennsylvania/P/Philadelphia/ and got them Directv. I got them all set up and had the service billed to me so that they don’t have to worry about it. Sometimes my dad’s frugality borders on obsessive, and I knew my mom needed some entertainment at home. My dad is still working and my mom is retired, so she gets bored at home. I want her to enjoy her retirement after she worked so hard for so many years. I hate to think of her at home all alone and with nothing to do. I am glad I could afford to do something nice for them since I know my dad would never agree to pay for it. He is such a cheapo!

Where's the Rodeo – Drive?

When I was younger, I felt a pull toward California. I wanted to live there. And I wanted to be discovered. (How I thought I could be "discovered" as a writer merely by standing on the corner of Hollywood and Vine, I'll never know {ah, the mysteries of my mind}, but that is what I wanted to happen.)

 So a friend of mine and I, along with my oldest daughter, flew to Los Angeles, visited Knott's Berry Farm and Disneyland, and tried to locate Rodeo Drive, where all the famous people hung out. Maybe one of THEM would notice me.

 Oh, Rodeo Drive, you bring back such fun memories. We soon discovered that Rodeo Drive was a mystery street intended for the Hollywood elite only. We never made it there, because the heavily accented Mexican cab driver didn't understand us when we pronounced the street as if it were a cowboy rodeo. We had never heard the pronunciation of the word. We only read about it in magazines.

The conversation went something like this:

Us – Please take us to Rodeo Drive.
Him – I don't know no Rodeo Drive.
Us – Of course you do. It's the most famous street in all of Los Angeles!
Him – No, I never heard of it.
Us – Are you new?
Him – No, it doesn't exist.

 Several years later, when we discovered the proper pronunciation, I wanted to locate a California criminal lawyer. I knew that driver was just messing with us. Good luck, taxi cab driver, I thought, in locating a Los Angeles criminal defense lawyer who would believe your whine about how we didn't make ourselves perfectly clear. Would s/he believe that you had "no idea" where Rodeo Drive was located? Not likely!

 To be honest, I don't know what crime I would have accused him of committing – misunderstanding a passenger? Misleading a passenger? Being intentionally evil to a passenger? I KNOW he knew what we were talking about. But I wouldn't have been able to prove it in a court of law.

 Perhaps he truly didn't understand what we were talking about, though. I learned recently from a British writer friend of mine (John), who is also a teacher in China, that some Mandarin words, when speakers employ a different tone, mean different things. Ma, for instance, can mean mother, hemp, or horse. Ma can also be used to scold someone. So I have learned to forgive the taxi cab driver for not understanding us.

 Still, I've never visited Rodeo Drive, but at least I now know how to pronounce it.

So That's How Girls Have Babies?

Old photo of Kaden and his cousin, Audrey.

My grandson was sitting next to me Friday night while I was watching "A Gifted Man." He was playing games on my iPad, and I thought he was totally engrossed in the game, but during a scene when a woman was giving birth, I heard him say, "So that's how girls have babies? It comes out their butts?"

 Well, imagine my surprise. What a quandary. Do I tell him the truth? Do I make a big deal out of it and call his parents and ask them what they want me to tell him?

What do I say?

 So I told him the truth – No, Kaden, babies do not come out of a woman's butt.

 But he wouldn't leave it alone. I could feel my heart stop when he asked, "Then where do they come out?"

 Oh, come on, Kaden, I went through this four times already with my kids. Do I have to go through this with all my grandchildren too?

After thinking for about a solid minute I told him, that yes, they do come out from that area, but sometimes the mom has to have her belly cut to take the baby out.

 "They cut the mom?"

 Will this torture ever end?

 "Sometimes."

 As I held my breath waiting for the next question, I dared to look over my shoulder at him. He was happily playing on the iPad, already on to new thoughts.

 PHEW!

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