Codey Weekend

I'm going to take a break from the tedious Al Gore fisking, and talk about my grandkids. I do this intentionally oblivious to the irony.

This weekend, Gemey and I are watching Codey, my youngest grandson. He's a round little fellow, stout and sleek. Though chubby, Codey is very solid, with the strength of a good size dog, to boot. Baby Grace, a long-term house guest, is a mere wisp compared to Codey. Gracey I can still tuck in the crook of my arm, but Codey has the feel of a wriggling medicine ball. His surprising strength makes it hard to hang onto him when he is in full wiggle.

Codey's number one feature isn't his strength and heft, though. Codey is just about the happiest baby I've ever met. Kristi, my oldest granddaughter would be inconsolable for hours. In contrast, Codey is always smiling or squealing. His eyes sparkle, and he always seems to have an open-mouth grin going on.

Put Codey on his back, and you can play with him at length just by walking your fingers up his tummy and into his armpits. You don't have to actually tickle him to illicit a squeal. I spent two long periods out on the front porch, letting him swing. I sat in front of the swing, and made faces as the arc carried him to me. He gurgled, spit and squealed with delight. I sing to him, inserting his name into popular songs. Twinkle Twinkle Little Star becomes Codey Codey Little Star. I have no idea if he likes it. He may be laughing at me.

I frequently hum and sing to my Grandkids. Today I was wondering if they would remember their PeePaw's voice. I am a short-octave baritone, with about half an octave into the bass clef, and missing the upper fourth of the baritones. Will they remember the thrum of my voice rumbling through my chest as I hold them during a bottle, or while just walking around with them in my arms?

As I write, Codey sleeps peacefully up in our bedroom. We put dark plastic over our windows, like a WWII blackout room, so Codey can nap in the afternoon in dim light. Gemey and I accommodate our kids like this all the time, hanging swings and buying organizers for their toys.

There is a lot of work taking care of Codey, but it's a privilege to be fairly young and to be able to spend time with the grandkids like this. My paternal Grandfather died when I was pretty young, maybe about five or six. I never met my mother's dad. He died before I was born. I, on the other hand, have been a grandpa for 16 years, and have a good shot at being a great-great grandpa with most of my marbles. I could conceivably be one by the time I'm 70. If they are half as sweet as their cousins, I can hardly wait.

Tim McNabb