BFF 204: I Blog Because

Gramma's Version of the Truth

BFF 204 : I Blog Because

Fly swatters in hand, we marshalled the back yard for ants and any other bug we deemed the need to be swatted.  It was a glorious hunt filled with dare-devil deeds like;  hanging on the rail fence around the garden, or plowing into the garden in search of the ever elusive ruby red strawberry, or running mad-cap through the backyard while some imaginary monster was going to “get us”. 

Braelynn turned those massive hazel eyes at me, blinked twice (her grampa does that when he is thinking too) and asked, “Gramma, why is the grass green?”  I pause in my ant quest,  contemplating what my answer should be. 

“Well, Ms. Braelynn, the grass is green because the world is just a speck of paint on a large mural and the picture needs our grass to be green”.  That seems to mollify her, temporarily.

“Gramma, why is Grampa’s hair white?”.  Ho boy, this is gonna be a good day….I’m feelin’ it in my bones!

Braelynn and I gather up our cup of freshly picked strawberries (some not so ripe, depending on the picker) Ushering my granddaughter to the faucet to rinse the berries off, I’m using this time to come up with another zinger for an answer.  I like to send Braelynn home with “food for thought”.  She typically shares her pearls of wisdom with her mother.  The feedback is hilarious.

“Grampa has white hair because he is part of a Q-tip in the picture we live in. You know , like those white Q-tips your mother uses to clean your ears.”  Braelynn squints her eyes and cocks her head.  She is categorizing the information I have just given her.  I can almost see the mural she has painted in her minds eye. 

“Are you sure?”   She is getting to the age she doesn’t always BELIEVE me.  I cannot imagine why. 

“Why is your hair yellow?”  I correct her, telling her there is a difference between yellow and blond.  Although, I must admit, a scarce one.  I show her the different shades of blue in her crayon box.  We investigate the varying pinks in my garden.  Walking to the neighbor’s garden we take in purple from violet to deep grape and many in between.  All the while discussing which shade is darker or lighter than the next. 

“Gramma, why is the sky blue?”

“Because, the picture we live in is seen through the mind’s eye of a blue-eyed giant.”

“Gramma, why  do you know all the answers? But Grampa doesn’t.” 

“I read books and stories and I like to write stories for my blog.”

“Gramma, what’s a blog.”

“One of the places where I get all my answers.”