Grand Slam

Bases were loaded. It was the top of the 6th inning. Cedric was up to bat. He had 3 balls, 2 strikes. He swung. He hit it deep into right field. One, two, three runners home. Cedric made it to third. The pitcher had the ball again. The runs tipped the score in their favor and the game was called before Ced could make it home. Now, I'm not a baseball officianado, but in my book, that was a GRAND SLAM!

Little Angel

My grandson, from time to time, would get into a little trouble. My daughter and I would discuss the issue, and I would give her some advice on how she could handle the situation. During a conversation with my daughter, she made some remark about Cedric's recent behavior. When I questioned her further, she told me that Cedric didn't want her to tell me about his bad behavior, because "she thinks I'm an angel." I have always been the one he runs to when in trouble. No matter what the behavior, I always love him. Not that his parent don't, I think it's just that when he's in trouble with his parents, he feels that for awhile. He may have chores or consequences afterwards, and probably feels disappointed with himself. With his gubba, he gets that immediate comfort of unconditional love. I don't have to dole out the punishment, just love. And I LOVE doing just that!