I Am Not a Grandfather!

Everyone once in a while life has a way of imitating Monty Python.  One of my favorite sketches involves the communistic peasant "Dennis" talking politics with Arthur, King of the Britons.  Here's the opening of the sketch.

Arthur:  Old woman!


Dennis:  Man!


Arthur: Man, sorry.


Dennis:  I'm 37.


Arthur:  What?


Dennis:  I'm 37.  I'm not old.  

Arthur:  I just can't call you "man."

Dennis:   You could say "Dennis."


Arthur:  I didn't know you were called Dennis.


Dennis:  You didn't bother to find out now, did you?  Just because I'm down here on the ground doesn't mean I should be automatically treated as an inferior.


Arthur:  Well, I am king....

Dennis:  Oh, king, eh, very nice.  And how'd you get that, then?  By exploiting the workers.  By hanging on to outdated imperialist dogma that continues to perpetuate itself in our society.  If there's ever to be any progress...

Anyway.  Sumie was on call this past Sunday and Mimi and I needed to get out of the house, so we drove over to visit Grandma and Grandpa in Pleasanton.  While there, we hit the park.  And while there, at least for a little bit, life imitated Python. 

As Mimi played with Grandma...

I got to talking with a fellow father who had come by with his five year old son.  Shortly into our conversation he looked over at Mimi and asked, "Is that your granddaughter... er, or daughter?"

Granted, I look old for my age.  I get that.  The last time I was carded for alcohol was when I was in High School.  But I really don't think I look like a grandfather just yet. 

That grandfather comment, even if only a Freudian slip, left me a bit out of sorts.  Imagine how a 64 year old woman would feel if she was honestly carded for buying beer.  Now imagine the complete opposite of that.  That's basically how I felt.  The fellow who called me grandpa was actually quite nice, and I enjoyed talking with him, but the fact that he was 45 didn't really pick up my spirits. 

After Mimi gave us her impression of the boy in the bubble...

it was time to head back to Grandma's house.  A few books and a bottle later, Mimi was down for her nap. 

About five minutes after she went down, Randy came out and asked me if I'd like to play 9 holes at the local pitch and putt course.  I hadn't golfed in at least 15 years, but agreed to give it a go.  We had a fantastic time.  I'd liked playing golf in the past, but always got too frustrated and angry when things went wrong to really enjoy it.  This time out we decided not to keep score, and that made a huge difference.  I'm thinking of starting to play more and, if I do, I think that's how I'll start.  No score.  Just fun and a little exercise. 

Hmm.  Looking back over this post, maybe that guy at the park was more insightful than I thought.  I'm a balding, overweight man who recently gave up his long term career, spends most of his time at home, and is thinking of taking up golf.  If it weren't for the lack of grandchildren, I guess I could be a grandpa.