My grand-kids have cast a spell over me. They walk into any room, anywhere, any time, and I’m completely mesmerized. I am held captive by these mystical magical extremely short people. Their spirits, their smiles, their eyes, the way they smell. I can’t hug them tight enough or take my eyes off their angelic faces. It’s embarrassing. I lose focus on all else around me. My vision narrows and all I see is them. They lock a vice grip on my heart and tighten it till I feel Ill explode, and all else, within a million miles, disappears. Their adorable, lovable, intoxicating little selves are all I have eyes for.
What is this strange thing that happens to me? They render me stupid. Yet, it’s a phenomenon that is apparently unexplainable. No one else gets it either.These offspring of our children can have food all over their faces and snot running out their noses and poop in their pants, but as grandparents, we see nothing outside of the miracle they are. It’s downright discombobulating! How did this happen to us?
I suspect the paralyzing spell they hold over me will fade as the years go by- as they become middle-school aged and don’t want me slobbering kisses all over their acne sprinkled faces. But, until that time, I’m drinking up every ounce I possibly can.
The perks of getting older never cease to amaze me.