Paw Paw Can Take A Punch

They say parenting is for the young.

I have first-hand evidence that 58-year-old men do not possess the required patience to be the sole caretaker of two rambunctious boys for more than 48 hours. I put myself to the test this past week as I was tabbed to help out my son Andy and his wife Alicia. They were both out of town on business and needed someone to watch their sons, Carson (4) and Camden (1 ½).  

I simply don’t know how my daughter-in-law does it. The energy that flows from those little bodies is spellbinding. And you must possess the skills of a professional wrestling referee…..or as a professional cat herder…to survive.  

Add to the mix their beagle, Earnie, and you have a three-ring circus.

There is no escape. The TV is exclusively on the cartoon channel and Carson knows how to record consecutive episodes of “Teen Titans Go!,” which can best be explained as young superheroes who confront evil…and get slapped around by it. When the Teen Titans Go theme song comes on (every half hour), the boys stop whatever they are doing and dance to the song….singing the unintelligible words.

This is like the cartoon characters of my childhood on acid.

I had Popeye and The Road Runner. I knew someone was going to mess with the sailor….he was going to eat some spinach….and kick some behind. I knew the coyote was going to fail each and every time he got another idea on how he was going to catch the Road Runner. Beep, Beep and it was over.

It made sense. And, I didn’t dance at the beginning of the show.

There was a sort of peak and valley to the energy level as I watched the boys. It was mostly consecutive peaks of running, jumping, jumping on each other, tackling each other and mauling each other. The dog stayed free of the fray…..but just when one of those oh so infrequent valleys would arrive…..the dog would have to go outside to do its business. So I would get up and let him out two doors. When I would get back, all hell would have broken loose. The same thing happened right before he would bark outside to come back in. When I would leave, the riot would hit fast forward.

Carson is, and I say this with love…..a con artist.

He repeatedly tried to take advantage of my rookie grandpa status. He brokered a negotiation at bedtime to sleep in his parent’s bed saying that was permitted. When he saw I was going to fall for that one, he went one step too far suggesting he also got to watch late night TV while in their bed. In the end, I agreed to let me take his I-pad to bed. I slept on an easy chair in the living room.

At 1:30 a.m., I felt a hand on my arm. It was Carson------there was a problem-----the I-pad was out of power. Could Paw Paw help?

No! Go to sleep without technology. I used to have to sleep without a TV….or air conditioning.

There was a moment when I almost ranted about walking to school in three feet of snow….but I decided to hold onto that one for another time.

Cam was another story. I was easy intimidated as a child. Cam isn’t. On more than one occasion I gave him the stinky eye and raised my voice when he was doing something wrong. That only inspired him. He was invulnerable to intimidation. Sort of like Superman without a hint of fear of kryptonite. That’s one dangerous dude.

The Paw Paw Daycare only lasted parts of three days….but when it was over……after I had dropped both of them off to their “school” (Daycare), I got into Andy and Alicia’s van and turned up KSHE until the windows rattled and sang out several rock songs on the way home.

I sang like the boys sing Teen Titans Go!

And I wondered if I had just forgotten how hard it was to raise little boys. I mean, after all, I had three of them.

Or is it different in 2016? Who knows?

I love those boys….and my other grandchildren…..Dempsey and Lexa.

But the day-to-day care of young children need to be administered by young parents.

Not old Paw Paws.