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Dear Reader,
When the brochure came in the mail I marked the calendar and told my two grandsons--"Dinosaurs are coming to the zoo!" We were all excited. Grandma and her two "boys" are into dinosaurs so much, that there's a 5-1/2 foot T-Rex skeleton in my grandson's bedroom, accompanied by dinosaur bedroom accoutrements: bedspread, pillow cases, a T-Rex lamp, dinosaur games and puzzles, and my husband and I even found a dinosaur phone at a flea market. (It roars instead of ringing when a call comes in.)
When the big day finally arrived, twenty dinosaurs were waiting for us in a deserted, eerie town at the zoo. All the townsfolk had fled in fear, and when we turned the first corner we encountered a huge dinosaur standing guard, silent and completely still until we walked over to take a better look, and then ROAR! 'I'm gonna have you for lunch, you better start running.' At least that's what it felt like to me, and that must have been the message my grandsons heard too, because they hightailed it back to the entrance, screaming and crying all the way.
"No, no, no, Grandma, let's go see the giraffes."
My first thought was, but this day was supposed to be all about dinosaurs. Even the picnic lunch I'd made was all about dinosaurs: sandwiches (cut from a dino cookie cutter--the bologna and cheese in the middle were in the shape of dinosaurs, too), dinosaur juice and dinosaur eggs; this wasn't my plan. But plans can change, especially when dinosaurs are chasing you--"Giraffes it is."
Being a grandparent allows me to easily shift gears because I've been able to carve out uninterrupted time for my grandkids. I appreciate that luxury, because it wasn't always an option when I was a mom. Playing with my kids, letting them linger for an hour, looking at the ducks or a worm in the ground, I'd grow impatient and want to hurry up, thinking about the long list of things I had to get done. The kids need naps, baths, their teeth need brushing, I'm behind on laundry, tomorrow's show-and-tell at school and I'm supposed to bake cupcakes this week, and if I don't pack their lunches this evening, I won't be ready for tomorrow morning's rush out the door, and if all of that doesn't get done by 8:30 p.m., I won't have time to shave my legs--again--because once the little angels were all tucked into bed, I'm pooped.
Even with a change in plans, it was a wonderful day at the zoo. But before we left, curiosity took me back to the dinosaur exhibit. My husband stayed with the boys while Grandma entered the dinosaur-invaded city again. This time I was ready for the big ROAR at the first exhibit, but I wasn't ready for meeting the biggest meat-eating dinosaur on display, whose ROAR was loud-and-long, and his mouth filled with 100 teeth, hung out over the path I had to walk on to get past him. Of course I knew it was a mechanical machine inside, and those roving eyes were programmed by a computer and the HUGE ROAR didn't really mean this big guy was hungry for a 5'2" blonde grandmother--nevertheless, I quickly ran past, scurrying for my life.
Yes, plans are meant to be changed, "Let's take another look at those giraffes."
Thanks for reading with me. It's so good to read with friends.
Suzanne Beecher
[email protected]
http://www.muffinsandmayhem.com/
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You had me laughing out loud this morning at work. I know my coworkers think I'm nuts but I don't care. I love reading your emails. I love hearing about your adventures with your grandsons. Makes me look forward to one day when I become one. Thanks so much for sharing with us.
Posted by: MW | February 17, 2011 at 09:40 AM