They Grow Up So Fast

I pick up the grandson and the granddaughter after school, who greet me with "Are we going to the park?!" 

"You bet!" 

Can Jordan and Matthew and Quinton come, too?  Can they can they can they? 

"You bet!"

Grandson jumps into the front seat, I straps Granddaughter into her seat, Matthew into the other side, and Jordan & Quinton in one belt in the middle.  They're brothers and they're used to it.

Where's the treats!?  demands the grandson.  What treats? asks I.  Nana always sends treats! admonishes grandson.  Ok ok, they're in the wayback, I'll get them out when we get to the park.

Utter, complete, magnificent, unrelenting, deafening pandemonium for the twelve minutes it takes to get to the park.  Shrieks, howls, admonitions, threats, pleadings, and only a couple of them mine.

I scarcely get the 'Burban into the parking space and they spill out like it's a clown car.  Grandson throws open the wayback, snatches Nana's goodie bag as quick as a kid on a Baghdad street and they streak across the lot and up the hillock to the picnic tables, me trailing behind waving a bottle of sunblock.

The daughter phones.  "How was his day?"  I don't know, didn't want to ask him in front of his buds.  'Let me talk to him." 

G-Unit!  It's Yerma!  Tell her I'm busy! 

Get over here, shorty, now!

Hi Ma!  Oh!  Good!  Got a Happy Face!  What? Oh OH What?  What?

He looks at me with this sly gap-toothed grin, holds the phone out from his face a bit, goes "CCCCCCCRRrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhkkkkkk"  Sorry Ma, you're breaking up!  Gotta go!"  Flips my phone shut, slides it across the picnic table to me, left, once again with his mouth agape, in awe at the pace of things.