Songs of Life

I made the fatal mistake that most grandparents make. I over and over again purchased toys for Kaleb. After picking him up from day care once he said to me, “Baba, are we going to get me a new toy now? Just one little toy, please, Baba,” placing his two small fingers physically in front of one eye and squeezing them repeating, “Just a little one.” Being an idiot I gave in and off we went to the store together. The moment we entered the store he scurried off to the toys as fast as his feet could take him; he knew exactly where they were. What I thought would be a ten or fifteen minute excursion became an hour and a half gauntlet. He intently examined every toy, comparing size, shape, weight, color and finally, even the expense. Now at a little over three years of age you may think that he was incapable of being able to understand the pricing system, after all he was just beginning to learn his numbers. He did not need the price stickers; he simply asked me if I would buy this toy or that toy and waited for my response. If I responded in an enthusiastic manner, he would instantly put the toy back on the shelf. If, on the other hand, I was resistant or negative, he knew he had an expensive toy in his hands. We had a number of knockdown fights and arguments as to why I would not purchase many of the toys he wanted. It’s pretty sad looking at a fifty-six year old man having a losing argument with a three and a half year old grandson in a public place, and he knew it. Whenever Kaleb was upset because he wasn’t getting his way, he would lower his head and shoulders and drag his feet as if he were walking off to the gallows. As he’s doing this he turns his head and looks at me as if to say, “See what you’re doing to me, see how mean you are, and look at how I am suffering because of you!” I was so tired after this long ordeal of the toy gauntlet that I gave in and purchased two relatively inexpensive toys. In the same style that the Roman army marched triumphantly and victoriously through the streets of Rome after an illustrious military conquest, Kaleb marched before me carrying his toys in triumphant procession to the car. That’s when the insurrection broke out. He began to scream for his cell phone! What cell phone? We never bought him a cell phone, how could a three and a half year old use a cell phone? The more I tried to make clear that he had no such item in his possession, the louder he screeched! Suddenly he saw it, “there it is, Baba, there it is!” He pointed under the front seat of the car and I pulled out a small rock the size of his palm. The moment I handed it to him his fingers rapidly moved up and down on top of it mimicking the sending of a text message He sat in his car seat happily tapping on this rock, “cell phone” all the way home. That stupid rock was far more valuable to him than the toys we had fought over or the victory of his battle for them. No matter how many expensive toys we buy young boys, they will always prefer sticks and stones.