Ava: Making Memories

This is my Ava Corinne, my first grand daughter.  Ava had prepared herself for our time together days earlier; coordinating her outfit, her make up, her cowgirl hat, her earrings, her boots ~ the complete ensem, just for me, her Pappy. 

It was such a sweet and precious gesture, and I love that she loves to do it.  I'm telling you what, this picture does not do justice to how much she rocked this outfit; wow, she looked amazing.  Those boots with the multiple straps just below her knee, with those killer black tights, perfect black hair, and the Ciara cologne (my favorite), and her special side-saddle single braid she'd had her hair done with was a perfect way to top off 'her look.'

Our first stop of the day was QT.  Don't need to ask Ava twice!  Once for that matter, she tells me right away she wants a donut!  I get her the chocolate covered one with red stripes that she asks for, and I pick up a chicken biscuit sandwich to enjoy with my DDP (it tastes more like real DP).  I calmly take a bite of my sandwich, chew, peruse the headlines of the USA today, swallow, and look up at Ava.  In the time it took for me to do this (<1 minute, remember, it was my 1st bite), Ava had inhaled her donut, and had made friends with 2 other customers that were complimenting her on her hat, and on her earrings!  By the time I'd finished my sandwich, 4 customers had told me how cute or pretty she was, and that my daughter was adorable.  I couldn't agree more.

We then journeyed across the street to Lowe's, and Ava assisted with the selection of Basil and Heather to be planted at home.  She was a whiz at bagging in the self-checkout lane, and we briskly began walking to our car . . . only to be interrupted by the white-trash-sperm-donor-of-the-day moment.  This idiot was cussing out his 3 year son, whom was in tears.  I summoned every ounce of reserve not to go pistol-whip this white-trash piece of dog excrement.  And had Ava not been with me, I most certainly would have had a come to Jesus face-to-face with this 140 lb. sorry example of human breeding.  Man, if you didn't want the child; you should have placed him up for adoption. But, you're so stupid you probably don't even know what adoption is.  Ava was thankfully distracted by carrying the bag of basil, and I don't think her ears had to hear what this punk's son had to hear . . . tragic.

Back to the fun . . .

We pointed our car towards Target and as Ava bolted through the doors, her smile and her words were indelibly tattooed in my brain "this way Pappy, I know right where the jewelry is!"  And indeed she did.  For the better part of an hour, we tried on a plethora of head bands, rings, bracelets, charms, beads, necklaces, hair bows, scarves, shoes, purses, etc.  Wow, "what a girl wants, what a girl needs".  Today was going to be 180 degrees different than my day with Will earlier this week :-).  We left Target with a new pair of fancy flip-flops (sorry if this is not what they are, but that's what they look like), and she also 'had' to have the matching purple purse.  Personally, I think it is more like a clutch, and Ava wanted to know the difference in the two.  Being now completely in touch with my feminine side, I educated her on the differences between a clutch, a purse, a bag, and a pouch.

Ava certainly did her share of educating me at Target though.  In some form of the following sentence, I heard this once, if not 10x.  "No Pappy, that hair bow (clip, ring, bead, earring, necklace, etc.) does not go with that purse (shoe, skirt, hair clip, eye shadow, etc.)"  She told me all about how certain things had to go with other things, and how you didn't match certain colors with certain styles, and how things had to coordinate, but that some contrast was acceptable.

I said "Ava, how old are you?"  She said 6.  I said Uh-Huh, sure you are . . . yeah right, 6.  Wow.

It was time for lunch, and one of Ava's favorite places to eat is Panda Express.  She loves the orange chicken and the lo mien.  I must say, for fast food Chinese, this place does it right.  Ava told me that she knew how to use chop sticks, and of course I believed her, but having never seen her do it, I thought this would be a treat.  Awe-So, so this is how it's done, no wonder I've never been able to figure them out.  If I remember right, you take a chop stick in each hand, and you stab the pieces of chicken hard enough to skewer it, and then you eat one side at a time, like a k-bob.  Good job Ava, I'll never think of chop sticks the same way ever again.

We were close to Pier 1, and we stopped off to look at a new blue vase and blue frame that were on sale.  I had no idea that Ava would be "in her element" in this store too.  Ava LOVED this place!  She must have touched, smelled, picked up, inspected, or analyzed 91% of the items in the store that were within her reach.  Thankfully, she's not yet 5' tall, so a lot of the inventory was still out of her reach.  She sweetly told me nearing the end of our 3-day sleepover in the store that she was going to buy me a special gift, just for me.  I love you Ava, I look forward to seeing what you pick out for me.

Our final stop of the day was Jewelry Galore.  Uh, can you say girly?  The store clerk welcomed us with open arms (she must know a Pappy when she sees one, and knows she's about to make a BIG sale).  She asked "have you ever been in the store before?", and when I said no, she made it her personal mission to show me everything that "my little girl" would want.  Not too shockingly, she was right, as Ava walked out with a hair bow, hair clip, ring, scarf, bracelet, and other sundries that I just don't remember.  My head was spinning from the incessant drone of Selena, Cee-Lo, and the BEP's rockin' the radio; which of course, Ava was keeping perfect pitch as she sung along.

I love you Ava Corinne.  You are one precious and super-special Monster.  I look forward to our next day together, as this one was certainly one for the memory books too!

  

WP ~ Making Memories

5 years ago this spring; I started a tradition with my g'kids (Ava being the first) of periodically picking them up and having them run with me to various job sites to see how things were going.  Ava Corinne (more about her in the next blog, as she is with me tomorrow) by far enjoyed many more of these initial visits than did the others, due to her advanced intelligence.  It's been fun every time.

Yesterday was WP's turn.  These trips have decreased greatly in frequency since Ava and Will have begun school, and spring break this week afforded them some time off.

WP's favorite color is blue, as is mine.  He was dressed in a blue jacket, and I was wearing his favorite blue stripped shirt.  He'd been so excited about the day that he'd made a list on a special blue sticky note pad.  It was his duty of the day to check the items off as we completed them (yes, he too is a task master; and loves structure.)

Our first stop was QT, as we did need gas, and he needed his Pumpkin Coffee.  Unfortunately, QT had stopped carrying Pumpkin Coffee the prior week, and replaced it with Cinnamon Roll.  He didn't care for it as much, but wanted to try it anyway.  A fresh donut was offered him, as was a cookie, but as is Will's nature, he declined both offers.  Food is not that big a deal to him . . .

We headed to play golf (at Dick's), and got pretty soaked walking in.  The door greeter lady commented on what a pretty son I had, and I said thank you, and moved on.  I have stopped telling people that I am their Pappy, and not Dad, as it has happened so many times the last 5 years that it has become routine.  So, I just smile and say thank you.  It is much easier.

Upon arrival at the putting green, WP makes his putter selection (blue handled of course), and begins to challenge me to a putting contest.  I picked up a matching blue handled putter, getting a precious smile from WP by doing so, and we lined the balls up.  Will went first, and from 18' away missed it by just a hair, but with so much force that it went 30' over and under the adjoining racks of men's clothes.  After retrieving the ball; I lined up my shot.  WP said "take a few practice swings Pappy, you'll do better", so I did.  I then hit the ball, and watched it travel into the hole.  Will hooped and hollered like he'd just seen Phil win the masters.  So easy to please . . .

It was the first time that I'd had a putter in my hands in 4+ years, and thus I was quite surprised to have holed a 22' on my first attempt.  It had to be the sage advice of WP "Haney Project" Kueny of "take a few practice swings Pappy, you'll do better" :-).

The next 30 minutes were spent putting, and spelling.  I know, the two don't mix, but Will is learning to read, and he saw letters all over these hole flags, and repeatedly asked me what an assortment of letters sounded like.  He'd turned it into a game.  He's good at games.  He's also good at seeing letters.

As we were leaving the store, WP happened by a bright purple long sleeved ladies Nike workout top, and said "Oh Pappy look, Nini would love that!"  Such a sweet tender hearted boy, yes, Nini would love that, and probably already owns something just like it, but that is so sweet for you to have noticed.

After being strapped up and headed to the bowling alley, I was slowly making my way onto the road, and I heard Will mumbling numbers.  Random numbers, or maybe they were sequenced, but he was definitely mumbling numbers.  I asked him "Will, what are you doing?"  His reply, "I'm quietly counting numbers to myself Paps; do you mind?"  And I said, carry on my boy, carry on.  More power to you if you like to count numbers; we need more people in the world that love to count numbers.

Upon arrival at BA Bowling, there was some concern that there would not be any open lanes, as the parking lot was full of mini-vans, cuv's, suv's, trucks, jeeps; etc.  It didn't take long to realize these were mostly soccer mom types with a boat load of kids.  (Their idiotic stickets on the rear glass showing all of the names, soccer balls, baseballs, footballs, frisbee's, dead birds, dogs, diapers, and baton's was a dead giveaway.)

And sure enough, as we walked through the front door, we were hit by a cacophony of sounds, mostly of children age 4 to 10 in various forms of excitement.  We got one of the last few lanes, #31, and proceeded with caution.  We were sandwiched in between I believe 18 soccer mom types, (I was one of the only males in the entire building), and I think there were 57 bowling children as off-spring of these 18 soccer moms. 

Wow, this was a loud place, and wished I had on my Bose earphones.  Hearing their non-stop chatter, as well as crashing pins, and you can only imagine the sheer delight that I was having of 57 children all yelling at the same time.  Somehow, I was able to 'zone out', and kept my focus on WP, and our 'task' of bowling.  Will loves to bowl, but he loves the arcade too, and yes, before you ask, there were even more youngsters playing in the arcade.  They were all angels though; there was not a bad seed in the bunch . . ., not a single bad seed . . ., not a one that I want to beat with a pogo stick . . .

When we left the bowling alley, I was holding his hand, and was thinking to myself how fast he was growing up, what a big boy he was becoming, how proud I was to be his Pappy, and how much I loved him.  Less than 2 minutes later, he brought me back to reality that he's not that big yet, as he said "Pappy, where's my sippy cup?"  He'd left it inside, and thankfully it was there when we went back inside.  I realized though that if he's 5 and still thinks its cool to drink from a sippy cup, then so be it, and I'm not going to tell him otherwise!

Here is his bowling score sheet, and his sticky of things to do that we kept track of:

Our morning together was concluded over lunch at Ron's.  Will chose, and quickly told me he wanted chicken and fries.  I had no idea how hungry he was.  Will's eating habits are quite persnickety, and I was pleased but surprised as he downed 6 nuggets, and a quite large pile of fries.  He never eats that much, but Mom told me that he'd skipped breakfast to make sure he would be good and hungry when it was time for lunch with Pappy.

I love you WP.  I loved having you with me yesterday, and look forward to our next trip together!

Jack Arthur ~ Happy 4th!

Happy Birthday Jack!  Our little tank turns 4 today.  Sure wish we had some firecrackers to light today, as they pop about as bright as your personality! 

I've talked about Jack a few times before, but thinking about him today makes me smile ~ as that is his speciality ~ smiling!  Man, this boy can smile!  And it's a great smile too, not one of those dorky little girly-boy grins; it is an earlobe to earlobe smile, as I can count the teeth in his head with each smile.  Don't ever lose that smile my little fire hydrant; it will take you far in life!

Jack Arthur, another personal word of encouragement from your loving Pappy; yes, you ARE bigger than 'the baby', but I hope you're preparing yourself for the inevitable.  Meaning, you probably AREN'T going to always be bigger than 'the baby' :-).  (I think O'Mike is going to dwarf everyone in this family other than Jared Henry.)

So eat hearty today, enjoy the cake, the ice cream, and whatever other goodies are being prepared for you.  I love you always Jack Arthur Stank.

- Pappy

P.S.  I can hear the football announcer now "he jukes left, he plows right, he's leaving them in the dust! Man, that Stank boy can run. Better not get in his way, he'll run right over you ~ no wonder they called him a little tank when he was growing up!"