Though you can’t tell from the photo, in front of the rail is a lower deck. What you see is the pool’s upper deck. My son-in-law built both the upper and lower decks, and both decks have the same type of furniture, except that the lower deck has a U-shaped couch. One morning I sat on the lower deck with my grandson, Nolan, 7, who told me that we couldn’t sit on the upper deck lounge furniture because of Dude.
Nobody was sitting up there, so I knew he didn’t mean a person. I figured that he was probably talking about a thing.
“Dood?” I asked him, “What’s Dood?”
I could see by the look in his eyes that he expected me to apologize for not knowing what Dood was. I know – Grandmas can be so frustrating sometimes. But he politely refrained from saying anything derogatory.
“You know what it is,” Nolan taught me, “it’s that wet stuff that gets on things.” I remembered finding bird poop on one of their lounges, but the outdoor couches were supposedly easy to clean, so I figured that he must have meant something else.
“Huh,” I responded, rummaging through my brain cells to find something that meant the same thing and sounded similar. I thought that maybe my grandson was channeling Norm Crosby for a minute. “Aha! (it sometimes takes a while for those synapses to connect) You mean, Dew? Like the dew that gets on grass in the morning? Dew? Dew?”
Somehow his mind went on a tangent and he began to laugh. “No!” And then one of us (could have been me) said, “Doo Doo!” And Nolan erupted with more laughter. Then I started to laugh and he laughed harder and I laughed even harder. And we got silly and just kept laughing (I love moments like those).
After I was able to calm down, I explained to him that I was not talking about poop, and I spelled D-E-W for him. I sincerely love honest heartfelt belly laughs.
