There are certain life experiences that are bittersweet. As much as I don't like it my grandchildren keep on growing and maturing. We had my almost four year, Paige, with us in Florida. I have eight grand kids; four boys and girls each. "Peanut Paige' is a hugger. She said to me, "Grandpa, I want you to be with me forever"! Then she gave me a hug and a kiss so I went out and bought her a pony. No, I didn't but I would have.
Some of my kiddies are huggers and some aren't. Three and a half year old Vievie isn't. Just prior to Christmas she was sitting next to me on the couch and I bent over to pick her up and put her on my lap. The next thing I heard was, "Hey, Mister. Keep your hands to yourself". She's a tough nut, alright.
My first born grandson, the Big O, is my buddy and the oldest at age six. He's always been a hugger and not afraid to give me a kiss. On Friday I picked him up from kindergarten. Since I hadn't seen him since mid-January I was excited to see how much he'd changed. I knew he'd lost his two front teeth. I waited for him excitedly as he trudged across the school parking lot, his hood pulled nearly all the way over his head. I had planned what I was going to do when he saw me. As he approached he said, "Hi Grandpa" and stuck out his hand in a perfunctory manner as I shook it. I didn't hold his hand as we walked to the car. When we were strapped in he said, "Grandpa, thank you for not kissing and hugging me in front of my friends".
I think Peter Pan had the right idea.
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