Good Old Champ (A Children’s Story)

Horse and HatI knew Champ, our horse loved me, since he trotted up to the fence every time he saw me. I carefully held my hand flat and let him snuffle up goodies with his velvety muzzle.  My big sister said it he’d love anyone who slipped him apples, sugar and carrots, but she was just being mean. I didn’t tell my friends and cousins the trick, so they were scared he’d bite them.  Before long, I found he could help himself to treats.

My grandmother had written that she was coming for Easter and bringing Easter outfits with hats and shoes.  I didn’t hear much except the part about outfits with hats and shoes.  I was thrilled!  I had been dying for a cowboy outfit with red boots, red hat, and shiny pistols in a holster  but Mother said I needed other things worse.  Good old Grandma knew what really mattered!  I was up before daylight waiting for her.  Breakfast and lunch dragged by…..…..nothing.  I was getting more and more upset.  Maybe Grandma wasn’t coming.  Maybe she got lost.  Just before dark an old black car crept up.  We all flew out to the car, trying to get to her first.  “What did you bring me?  What did you bring me?” Mother tried to shush us, but nobody listened. Grandma was slow getting out of the car and slower getting in the house.  No wonder it took her so long to get here.  We got busy and helped with her bags and a big brown box from the back seat.  There was plenty of room in there for a cowboy suit and lots of other good stuff.

Even though we were dying, Mother made us wait till Grandma went to the bathroom, got a cup of coffee, and caught her breath.  She was slow at that, too.  Finally, Grandma got the scissors and started cutting the strings on the box.  She was so old her fingers shook.  It took forever.  I could have ripped into that box in a second, but would Mother let me?   Noooooo!

Just before I died of old age, Grandma started pulling things out of the box.  I knew she always saved the best for last.  I got a gumball machine full of gumballs.  That was great!!  Next she pulled out a baby doll and handed it to me. Grandma couldn’t seem to remember I hated dolls, but I tried to be nice about it.  All baby dolls were good for was burying when we played funeral.  I tried to be patient till she got to the cowboy outfit.  Finally, she hit bottom.  She made me and my sister close our eyes and hold out our hands for our outfits.

I peeked just a little and was furious!!  This was a horrible joke!  We were both holding fancy Easter dresses, big ridiculous straw hats with flowers, and shiny white shoes.  I hated them! Where were my cowboy boots and guns? My mother gave me a dirty look before I could tell Grandma what I really thought.  I hated dresses, but Mother made us put on our Easter getups and pose next to the fence for a picture. It was hot. The clothes were scratchy. We looked stupid.  My prissy big sister kept dancing around like a ballerina while the mean kids from next door laughed at us across the fence.  I’d  be dealing with them later.  Boy was I disgusted.

Mother was as slow as Grandma.  While I stood there like a dope waiting for her to take that darn picture, Champ came up behind me expecting a treat.  We both got a big surprise.  I felt a big scrunchy chomp on my head. The strap on my hat stretched tight, snapped, and that horrible hat with the flowers was gone.  I flipped around, and Champ was eating my Easter hat.  He still had straw and flowers sticking out of his mouth, but I could see he didn’t think too much of it either.  He was the best horse ever.  I never had to wear that hat again.  He did love me!

Grandma and the Coat from Hell

Since there were five kids in our family, Grandma did her best to help out when she could. Sometimes I still hate her for it. Once she went to the Goodwill Store and bought me the ugliest coat in the world. I didn’t have a problem with Goodwill. It was ugly that bothered me. It was a knee-length brown hounds-tooth wool dress coat of the style not Continue reading

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The Special Bond Between Grandchildren and Grandparents

I miss my Grandma.  She was perfect, mostly because she acted like she didn’t notice my  bad behavior, knowing my mom take care of it.  I was sure she loved me best of all her grandchildren, unaware all the grand kids felt hat way.  She made the best teacakes, told the best stories, and always smelled of Johnson’s Baby Powder.  Patiently, she’d let me brush her waist-length gray hair, and attempt to twist into a heavy bun, never complaining that I pulled, before finally turning it into a perfect bun and securing it with only one heavy bone pin herself with a quick flip of her wrist, once I gave it up for hopeless.

Every afternoon after lunch and her “stories” Grandma hung her cotton print housedress on a line stretched across a corner of her bedroom, let her hair down, slipped off her shoes and knee-high stockings, put her gold-rimmed spectacles carefully on the bedside table, and lie down for a nap.  Continue reading