Something Uplifting for a Change

Nose candy and penises might be involved

Here I am, not even two weeks after the opening of “Bob’s Diner” and already I’m turning to my grandchildren for material.

I have four of them. They are, of course, adorable. More adorable than anyone else’s grandchildren for sure. But it’s time the little snots started helping out around here and earning their keep.

Truth is, given these times, I don’t know how my lovely wife and I could stay semi-sane without them. Whenever the daily onslaught threatens to bring us down, the grands lift us up. Wine helps, too.

So, you’re in luck. Today I’m sharing their adorableness with you.

Note: As much as I would love to tell you their names and show you cute pictures of them, I’m invoking the Grandchild Protection Program and will refer to them anonymously. With luck, this will also help me avoid catching hell from their parents, one of whom might be kind of embarrassed. He’ll get over it.

***

Grand #1 (girl, age 5): If there can be such a thing as an adorable nose-picker then she is it.

While I recognize that nose-picking is often necessary and can be somewhat pleasurable (come on, admit it), it’s something that should be done when no one’s looking. We’ve been trying to break her of the habit.

The other day, my wife caught her in the act, going to it with the all the efficiency and determination of a Roto-Rooter.

“Get that finger out of your nose right now,” my wife said.

Our granddaughter, in uncharacteristic fashion, did as she was told. She gave her finger close examination and smiled her little smart-ass smile.

“That’s OK,” she said. “It’s empty.”

***

Grand #2 (boy, age 7): Back in February, for Black History Month, he chose to do his report on George Washington Carver.

Grand #2: “Did you know that he discovered more than 300 ways to use the peanut?”

Me: “Such as?”

He rolled off a bunch of them — shaving cream, shampoo, glue and so on.

Me: “What about peanut butter?”

Grand #2: “He didn’t invent peanut butter.”

Me: “Who did?”

He didn’t miss a beat.

“Peter Pan,” he said.

***

Grand #3 (boy, also age 7): He walked into the bathroom the other day while his father was taking a shower and immediately started laughing.

“What is it?” asked his father, who is also my son.

“It’s your penis,” my grandson said.

“What about my penis?” asked his father, not that we Morris men get defensive about our penises or anything like that.

More laughter ensued, rolling-on-the-floor laughter. The kid has a world-class laugh.

And then: “It looks like a skinny turkey with hair on its chest.”

An image that neither my son nor I will ever get out of our heads.

And now I leave it with you.

***

Grand #4 (boy, 3): Not all that long ago, I had a skin cancer removed from the tip of my nose. It left an ugly hole. Or, as we call it down here, a Florida tattoo.

The first time he saw the scar, Grand #4 was fascinated. I told him that a doctor had cut my nose and removed a bump.

“Did it hurt?” he asked.

“It did,” I said.

“That’s OK,” he said. “I’ll kiss it and make it better.”

That was a few months ago. The hole is indeed better but still noticeably there. And I hope it never disappears. Because every time Grand #4 sees me, he insists on giving my nose a kiss.

***

Sharing a song today, too — “Mr. Tough” from Yo Lo Tengo. They released it in 2006, as a jab at President George W. Bush, a much more benign and pleasant Republican than the current occupant of the White House.

It urges us all to get out on the dance floor, “forget about our problems, ignore them for a little while.”

Good advice. Even more applicable now than it was back then.

Thanks for reading. See you back here soon.