Equal Time

It was quiet around my house last week. Part of it was because my body has decided once again to do what my family refers to as it’s "Tena Thing" and flip out for no good reason.

Every so often, just to keep life interesting, my body decides to do something unusual and unexpected. The result leads to me being uncomfortable, my doctor being confused, and all of us knowing that here we go again.

I’ve spent the last few weeks sharing quality time with my bed and my couch, moving as little as possible and sleeping as much as possible, which is about the only state I’m comfortable in.
My local doctor refers to me as "special," which is most likely code for what he won’t say: weird. It’s okay. I knew that already.

Logan’s grandpa rescued him by taking him to Jonesboro for the week. I definitely wasn’t any fun, and Grandpa occasionally feels the need to undo the Decanter side of whatever damage is being done to the grandson. After all, Logan is exposed to that side constantly. They live here.

There has been an ongoing, albeit good-natured, war on since Logan learned to talk. Actually, since Logan learned to repeat whatever the Papa would say, and then go tell Grandpa. Papa drives a big Dodge truck. Grandpa drives a big Ford F-350 dually truck. That’s enough ammunition right there.

Papa tells jokes. Grandpa tells funnier ones. Or, at least they are funny when the granddads tell them. Filtered through Logan, they loose something. He hasn’t quite developed perfect timing and total recall yet.

In our extended family, "You be sure to tell your Grandpa," or "You tell your Papa," is a common phrase that brings groans from everybody. Logan loves it, so it keeps going.

We were a little worried about Grandpa. He isn’t as young as he was when he had his own 12 year old to chase around, and he hadn’t had two knee replacement surgeries. He asked for Logan, though, so he got him.

They had all kinds of adventures. Logan’s birthday is coming up, so Grandpa took Logan shopping. My child isn’t any more normal than I am. So while most kids would go to the mall, my kid went to his favorite places....the pawn shops and military surplus stores in Jonesboro. Yeah, they bought stuff. Used stuff. Stuff nobody else wants, but stuff that is a treasure to my son.

They toured the fire station, something Logan loves to do and asks to do routinely. We’ve done it here so often that the firefighter’s know him by name. They just about know him by name in Jonesboro, too. He knows every make and model of every truck, and wants to go every time a new piece of equipment comes in. He knows more about the equipment than the average adult citizen, and probably the average city council member does of either town. It is one of his passions.

They went fishing late one afternoon and evening and caught a whole lot of heat and a whole mess of mosquitoes. They did not catch any fish. They spent the next day vacuuming the truck, trying to get out what Logan said was "four quadrillion" bugs.

After Gary got off work Thursday, he rescued his dad by going to Jonesboro. The three of them went up to Bull Shoals on the White River. The plan was to spend a few days doing some Father-Son-Grandson bonding while fishing for those world famous trout.

They had better luck up there. They caught less mosquitoes.