Monday, July 27, 2015

The Grandfathers Club did it again a couple of weeks ago.

 We recklessly endangered the lives of young, innocent children by taking them for a ride in the back of a pickup truck through farm country.

The oldest of the lot now has a driver's license and is the designated driver after we have out post mission snort. I've posted that it doesn't mean we get plastered but it does mean we relax a bit more.

It was a sultry night when we took the kids for the ride. We pulled over and looked at the sky for a while. The light pollution of the Pittsburgh metropolitan area obscures a lot of the view of the heavens. It's great to see the sky out in the country.

 I think we'll do it again in August. 

What surprised me is that one of the older girls asked if she could bring her boyfriend along. We agreed if he swore to secrecy and promised not to run his mouth off about it.

It never ceases to amaze me that the kids haven't seemed to outgrow enjoying a ride in the back of a pickup on a sultry evening. When they hit their teens they generally don't want to do things with adults.

I think that a part of this is that they don't want to do things with their parents. This is normal and to be expected as they grow older and start to show their independence.

I guess it's OK when you skip a generation, though. After all, grandparents are not your day to day supervisors, wardens and keepers.

There have been three of us that run this show but sadly there will soon be two. One of the guys has health problems and has been told to get his affairs in order.

When he told us that this was likely his last summer I simply told him.  I'd make sure his two grandkids would be invited along next summer.

He smiled. "I'd like that," he said. Then he grinned. "I'll leave you $20 for gas.

To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY

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