Small Fires

If we are fortunate, there are a mountain of wondrous moments that occur when we are in charge of the welfare of our grandchildren. Little things that maybe the rest of the world would find of no particular note that bring smiles to our faces and sunshine to our hearts. A million random reasons to be grateful for what we have been given.

But, being the grandparent of two tiny people, there are always and forever those small fires that require immediate attention so they do not turn into conflagrations: a toy that is not where it is supposed to be, a snack that is denied, a bath that interferes with nothing in particular but is still not appreciated. And it is in the art of deflection, of turning potential disaster into but a sliver of irritation where we earn our advanced degrees, our doctorates in survival.

The other day though the most unusual, unanticipated, unexpected transpired. On this particular occasion, on this afternoon and evening, at this place and this time, there were no fires, not even a hint of smoke. No tears, no shouts, no I don't want to, no pouting. In short, no no. In this house, on this date, it was as only our imagination would allow.

Meals were eaten as requested, the TV was turned off without drama, pajamas went on without a hitch. Both kids shared my lap as we wandered through a sea of stories. No begging or pleading. Neither on their part or mine.

I recognize this is likely an aberration, that in the tomorrow's to come this may seem but as a mirage, that perfect is but an illusion. But, oh my, how nice to get a glimpse of what is possible.

Enjoying a firefighter's day off.