Grampy Lash

For those of us who have become wearisome of the winter season with several weeks more to go, it is easy to see what may be interpreted as early signs of the forthcoming spring time. The robins are returning to my backyard, the golden hue is showing more strongly through the drab green backs of the gold finches, and the periscopes of daffodils are probing through the surface of the ground – and the sudden desire of someone I know, to pee on some ants.

This past weekend, Rachel and Aaron spent the night with us. When any of our grandchildren come to visit, one of the things we always seem to end up doing is watching, what has become known as, “Popaw’s Christmas Video”. Every year, just in time for our traditional family Christmas Eve get-together, I prepare a video comprised of my favorite photographs and video clips that have accumulated since the previous Christmas; about five hundred pics and vids synchronized with some catchy tunes. Everyone seems to enjoy it, especially the grandkids.

So, we were watching the 2014 edition of “Popaw’s Christmas Video”, Edie Brickell was singing, “I was barefoot, in the creek,” and a photo of Aaron standing barefoot in the creek is on display. Without warning Aaron blurts out, “I want to pee on the ants!”

“You what? Did you just say you want to pee on some ants?”

“Yeah,” seeming genuinely pleased with himself for coming up with that line. “Remember when we went to the park last summer, and you wanted me to pee on the ants?”

True dat! I confess. Guilty as accused.

Claudia and I had indeed taken Rachel and Aaron to the park in Danville last summer. They love to go to this park. It has nice playground equipment and a shallow little creek that winds through, and a bouncing suspension bridge that I can remember fearing to cross when I was a little kid. Hot and sultry it was that day, and before long the kids were ready to peel off their shoes and socks and  go for a refreshing wade in this little creek with a big name; the West Fork White Lick Creek.

No sooner than his feet were wet and caked with sand, Aaron stared dancing and grabbing at his lower extremities. “I have to pee! Now!” Of course, the bathroom was on the other side of the park, and it was easy to determine by his vigorous dancing and grabbing that we would not be able to make the distance.

“Come on Aaron. Let’s go up the bank here and find a nice big bush.” The dancing and grabbing momentarily abated.

“Why?”

“So you can pee… you know, behind the bush. It’s either that or pee in your pants boy.”

Reluctantly his little hand took mine, and we soon found the perfect bush just as the fits of jumping and grabbing were beginning to return. He finally was able to relax and let it go, let it go, let it go. And just beyond the arc was a gathering of a very busy army of ants.

“Quick Aaron! Pee on those ants!” I yelled.

“What?” Then, “No!” he shrieked. The sudden sight of billions of ants was too much for this little boy who was apparently working hard just to pee outside for the first time. No way was he going to pee on those ants. He abruptly ran out of ammo and was already turning to make a hasty retreat back down the bank towards the comfort of the sandy creekside; totally ignoring my plea of how much fun it was to pee on ants.

A new harbinger was unknowingly established that day. Now we have a new early sign for spring; the urge to pee on some ants. And not just any ants either. When the temperature is just right, when the bushes become full enough with their leaves to hide a little boy and his grandpa, we’re going to head out to Danville park next to the West Fork White Lick Creek and pee on some ants.

With love,

S.E. Lash

February 11, 2015