Talk to the Hand

Different Strokes ~ The grandkids are here most Friday nights. Now that he’s older, Satchel sleeps in the downstairs bedroom while Temple still sleeps with me. She wants a Taser for her birthday. Here’s the difference between these two…

He was three the first time he spent the night (she was not yet born) and he gently taps my shoulder and whispers next to me in the dark, “Oma, there’s a noise in the room.”
I say, “I’m sorry honey, am I snoring?”
He says softly, “I think so.”
I say, “You have to fall asleep before me, okay?”
He whispers back, “Okay. I’ll try.”

The first time she slept with me at that same age, I got a karate chop to the back of my head.
“WHAT?!?” I screech, sitting bolt upright, now wide awake.
She barks, “I can’t sleep! You’re snoring!”
Cheesus. She’ll love the Taser.
2012

Basketball 2013

A Three-Pointer ~ “Oma, I don’t think my coach likes me.”
“Why?”
“He’s not very nice to me, he hollers, and I hardly get to play.”
“Listen, I’m going to give you some advice. First off, quit taking it personally. He’s your coach and that’s what coaches do. He’s not there to be your friend. And, what if he really is a mean guy. So? There’s lots of mean guys in the world. Maybe he’s preparing you for real life so when the day comes that a teacher or boss is not nice to you, it won’t come as such a shock. Buck up, not everyone’s going to treat you like the fair-haired child.
As I watch him take this in, I add, “Look, Satch, some coaches are better with kids then others. If he gets really mean, you let me know. I’ll march out on the court and take care of him.”
“No, Oma, no, it’s okay. Please, I don’t I want you to talk to him.”
“I thought that might be the case.”
2013

The Hand That’s Dealt You ~ We’re playing Go Fish on my living room floor.
Satchel (age 11) has dealt.
Temple (age 6) is waiting for instructions.
Satchel tells her, “Pick up your hand.”
In dead seriousness, she lifts her right hand and hovers it at arm’s length, palm down, over the cards on the floor in front of her, as if we’re at a seance.
He rolls his eyes, slaps himself on the forehead, and falls over backwards in disbelief. “Ohmygod! Why do I have to have her for a sister?”
I’m doing my best not to snort my brains out my nose because she does NOT like to be laughed at. I pick up her cards, fan them, and tuck them in her hand for her.
We don’t explain. It’s better that way.
November 2014

Kitchen Wisdom ~ While fixing breakfast together, Temple announces, “Oma, we should open a restaurant.”
I tell her, “Sure, I’ll be the prep cook because I’m the one who knows how to measure, and you can be the one who pours and stirs and flips.”
“I can only work two days a week during the summer though,” she responds, “because I have swim lessons.”
December 2014

Talk to the Hand ~ It’s Saturday morning. As Temple unloads the silverware from the dishwasher she announces that the drawer is a mess. I offer to have her straighten it. She wants to know why I have five pairs of reading glasses in there. I tell her that’s where they hide, which is why I’m always buying new ones. She rolls her eyes. When she’s done, I offer to have her straighten two more. She’s appalled that they’re also in a jumble. After ten minutes she has them in great order. I had things in there that not only had I never used, I wasn’t even sure what they were for. She proudly shows me both drawers, faces me and spreads her arms like guardian angel wings to protect them, admonishing me that I’m no longer allowed to go in either, and if I do, they’d better look like this next time she’s here. I tell her to talk to the hand. Sheesh.
May 2015

© 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015. Catherine Sevenau.
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