Grandparenthood: Ken Gibbs

For those well used to this happy estate, and perhaps already employed frequently as unpaid baby-sitters, a new arrival being added to the menagerie may just cause a mental 'shrug-of-the-shoulders'.  Not so for those becoming Grandparents for the first time.

We live on the north Cornish coast in a tiny village called Rock.  We take a Saturday newspaper most weekends, which comes with a glossy magazine.  In one of these magazines under the feature 'Social Stereotypes' there was an article dealing with competitive grannies.  Naturally, this didn't describe the grannie-to-be who lives in Rock, though we had a sneaking feeling that it might say something about the other grannie-to-be who, coincidentally, was a first-timer, too.  To differentiate between the two grannies, the prospective parents termed them as 'Granny-Rock' and 'Granny-Hard-Place' with the child-to-be between them.  Poor child.  Mother-to-be carrying a large bump just smiled benignly.

Granny-Rock took up the challenge by searching out the knitting needles not used since her own children were in nappies - not noticing that even the needles smelled of moth-balls.  An old, typed pattern for a woollen shawl was placed before Grandpapa-to-be for putting on to the computer before the typed version became illegible through old age and over-use, and Granny-Rock set to work.  Not having wielded needles for some considerable period she couldn't get the 'points' on the shawl she was knitting, to work out correctly.  Grandpapa-to-be was pointedly asked whether he had transcribed the pattern accurately ?  Silly question; of course he had!

The problems persisted because the wretched shawl would not do what the pattern said it should and Granny-Rock was singularly disappointed.  She also has a second language with a very colourful vocabulary which Grandpapa-Rock-to-be learned rapidly.  Finally, it was discovered that the computer version had indeed slipped a couple of stitches and Granny-Rock had to make certain adjustments, muttering all the while, 'I told you so !'

Grandpapa-to-be used some of the colourful language he had so recently learned.

The baby arrived a little late but without complications; the Grandparents were informed that both mother and the baby girl were fine.  Her name was announced.  "How do you spell it ?" we asked.  We were told and could only recall one film star of that name around whom scandals rained like it was the middle of a thunderstorm.  Good choice, obviously.

Father and daugter - an introduction

We were invited to visit mother and baby the day following the birth and Granny-Rock just melted.  Now one has to understand that Granny-Rock has a hard earned reputation for not melting no matter the situation, but here we were and she was like butter in summer.  The baby behaved perfectly while Grandpapa-Rock skulked in the background being somewhat apprehensive at the possibility of having to handle such a tiny bundle.  Grandpapa-Rock felt that he didn't want to stand in the way of Granny-Rock who was busy melting all over again.  Snaps were taken which flattered everyone - even the new mother who had, after all, been through a pretty testing time the previous day.  As Grandpapa-Rock was wielding the camera, he was spared having to display his cuddling skills.  The Grandparents were allowed to leave as they still had a three hour drive home.

To retrieve lost colours, Grandpa-Rock wrote a letter from Father Christmas to the new arrival for her future edification.  It consisted of a painting showing the North Pole with flag being blown by the east-west wind and, in the background, the Ion Curtain (Aurora).  The accompanying story about the misdemeanors of the Ice Goblins was full of dreadful puns to provide her with written proof positive that her Grandpapa is crazy - a necessary attribute of at least one of one's grandparents.

Christmas passed and the new family came to visit Granny-Rock at home in Rock.  Granny-Rock continued melting and while Grandpapa-Rock tried to melt into the background to avoid having to show the continued paucity of his cuddling skills, he was caught and presented with the tiny bundle.  He took her carefully and tried to emulate what all the others seemed to have managed - to talk to her.  Her response was immediate.  Her face wrinkled into total concentration; she broke wind and then satisfyingly, noisily, proceeded to fill her nappy.  Perhaps this was her way of expressing her opinion of Grandpapa-Rock ?

Naturally, Grandpapa-Rock has been renamed Grand-poo-pa.

*****

Anyone who wishes to see the dreadful artwork that Father Christmas undertook to celebrate the arrival of our first grandchild, will find it here: 'Curious Christmas Customs':

It struck me during my UNICEF career that one's reaction to a birth in the family is far removed from the rather remote reaction that many serving Programme Officers have to the children that the Mandate indicated were our responsibility.  Perhaps interviewees should have had to demonstrate successful cuddling skills before they could be selected for any UNICEF posts ?  Now there's a thought for you !