My dad, my older niece, Grace, and I went to pick up my younger niece at the child care place where she went for preschool. There were a lot of security codes and sign-in protocols to deal with which surprised me although it shouldn't have; eventually we made it through to a small, enclosed outdoor playground where about 15 four- and five-year olds were horsing around. My niece, Sydney, spotted us--or rather, spotted my dad--and yelled out "Grandpa!!" She ran over excitedly and jumped up into his arms. And apparently, the word and figure of "Grandpa" has such power to small children as a symbol of benevolence that all the kids came over, like they were magnetized, circling around him. Grandpa. A Grandpa is here. We must go to him. It was like the end of "Close Encounters" when the little aliens are clamoring around Richard Dreyfus, eager to touch and experience him. I don't think my dad or Grace took special note of it but I know I was standing there with my mouth hanging open. Sydney giggled and told Grandpa her friends' names.
They let us leave and I asked Sydney what she'd had for lunch that day and she said "cheese." I asked what kind of cheese and she said "yellow."
:)
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