Froggie

Froggie

Last Friday, late afternoon, I got a call from my daughter saying the stork has been sighted.  “Oh, and by the way,” she calmly stated, ‘the landing gear is already lowered”.   I felt my heart racing, so I started my breathing exercises.  Oh, wait, I’m not the one having the baby.

I certainly wasn’t a key player in the dramatic finish of this nine inning, err month, event, but I wasn’t a bench warmer either, let alone a casual spectator.  My job was to watch the soon-to-be Big Brother, 3, while Mom and Dad guided the stork in for a soft landing, received the payload, and got him settled in his new “nest”.  Big Brother, aka “Little Man”, was three hours away, so I jumped in the car and off I went, the words of my favorite childhood cartoon, Mighty Mouse, singing in my head, “Here I come to save the day … Mighty Mouse is on his way!”

Little Man, as planned, was safe and sound at the neighbor’s when I arrived.  We gathered up his few prized toy cars, video and favorite stuffed animal, crammed them in Little Man’s home-made customized denim backpack (his Mom makes everything) and trudged back to  Little Man’s house.   That was the beginning of a beautiful 3-day bonding adventure between Papa (me) and Oliver (Little Man), filled with lots of fun, giggles, horsey-rides, reading books, naps (more for me), junk food and some angst about the new arrival.

The new arrival, James, is definitely a game-changer for Little Man.  For now, I don’t think  he realizes that James is here to stay, but Little Man already notices a decline in his “playing time”, no longer being the only star on the team.  Little Man refers to little brother as “Froggie”, like he calls me “Papa Froggie” when I’m one of his imaginary friends; i.e. someone he can dispatch when he tires of them.

Thought for the Day:  The reason grandchildren and grandparents get along so well is that they have a common enemy.    Sam Levenson  (1911-1982)