Tag Archives: grandkids

The 12th Speaker

I have been in the drama business for quite a few years. I coach it for students in my school, I have seen my own daughters involved in it and I write drama pieces as well. I know how hard it is to break in.

I’ve seen my daughters through a lot of action, so far. I remember well the time Stefanie piled her then-blond hair up in a bouncy pony-tail and played the wide-eyed, original ditzy girl in a community play. It was one of my favorite performances and it was hysterical because that was so not her, so it meant she could act. I remember Tracie’s first part which required her to simply drop a pail and look astonished. I remember thinking, “Well, was it just me, or was she pretty good at that?” It wasn’t just me…the next thing I knew my little bucket-dropper had the lead in the Christmas pageant.

I’ve been through many enjoyable performances since then. I wasn’t aware, however, that the family performance tradition might take in another generation. My two grandsons had begun the rite of passage of singing in school programs before I knew it and I was missing them, one after another. Of, of course I got to see video of it, but neither boy looked like they had a future on the stage. The older one looked unenthused and the younger one appeared to be fairly hostile.

That was, until this summer. By some miracle of scheduling, I was able to see my grandsons for the first time in their program…an end-of-vacation-Bible school extravaganza, complete with wild, tie-dyed shirts and orange and yellow headbands. I was elated. The younger one was going to be doing some singing and actions and the older one was going to speak!

Some of the older students had the main parts in the Biblical story of Daniel and the three faithful who were tossed in the furnace. The part of King Nebuchadnezzar was played by a feisty young lady with a real feel for the dramatic flair (take it from an old drama coach). But I was excited for my grandson, Royce’s part.

He came out and danced and went through the actions and words of the songs, which went very well. I got loads of pictures, fighting all the other parents and grandparents to get just the right shot. I even got some shots of my younger grandson, less hostile than normal, as he, too, joined in the singing.

“Here comes his part,” I whispered to my husband, excitedly.

“What part is he playing?” asked the proud Mama snapping pictures of her little ones beside me.

“He is Speaker Number 12,” I announced proudly and just then, he stepped up and in ringing, clear tones pronounced his one line and then moved aside to allow Speaker Number 13 to speak.

“Did you hear that?” I asked my husband. “He spoke loudly and clearly and right on time.”

“He didn’t even use the microphone,” his grandfather said, bursting with pride. “He’s a natural.”

So now, I add to the memory of his mother as the ditzy blond and his aunt as the astonished bucket dropper, the memory of my little orange and yellow flame-covered thespian in the memorable role of “Speaker Number 12.” You don’t think it’s too soon to book my tickets for his Broadway debut, do you?

 

 

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Entertainment is a relative thing…

The Rifleman is about to come on television, so I’m going to have to keep this blog short. Now please don’t tell me that you don’t know about The Rifleman because everyone should be exposed to Lucus McCain and his trick rifle…this is something everyone agrees on…except my daughter.

“Don’t go letting my boys watch  The Rifleman this summer when they are with you,” she cautioned as she dropped the boys for a week’s visit.

“But the Rifleman is so wholesome. Chuck Conners plays Lucas McCain and uses that rifle effortlessly to take care of the bad guys. And all without blood and gore,” I was truly distraught. The Rifleman is my favorite.

“Alright, but not a steady diet of it, okay? I don’t want the boys to start playing at shooting,” she conceded reluctantly as she drove away.

I don’t understand it. People say they want to be entertained and then they overlook the best entertainment. I don’t need vampires or singing idols or romantic couples (of 30 or more) to keep me entertained. I object to demons which scare me to death and I also don’t get a thrill out of shows where people try to survive in the wilderness or argue with each other for fun.

I do like shows where the good guy comes out on top (with some shooting and body count, I admit.) I like shows with a mystery and I absolutely adore old movies (talkies, only please). Most of the programming  I want to watch is blood free (well, except for Code Black, which is kind of medically loaded), and as I said, the good guys may not be wearing the white hats, but they do finish first.

If I’m going to sit through a movie, it needs to be a little supernatural without being “gargoyles stepping off the buildings to eat us” scary. I’ve discovered that the higher a woman’s heel in a movie or television show, the more likely she is to be a person who will go for the jugular, and I’m definitely a low-heeled sort of person. I also have learned that while mini-series can be interesting, they frequently stretch out and last too long. I want to know why that dome fell right now or why those animals suddenly attacked without too many episodes. I don’t have the patience to wait too long!

That brings us back to television when my grandsons are here. I know they like to watch Modern Marvels and Paw Patrol, but I didn’t think they really paid much attention to my programming, so I could watch The Rifleman, right? That is, I didn’t think it mattered  until their mother came to pick them up.

“As you can see, I took good care of them,” I bragged as I was packing up clothes and toys. “I didn’t expose them to anything bad and I flatter myself I may have introduced them to some new pieces of fine entertainment.”

At that exact moment, the older boy stepped out of the bathroom, where he had been brushing his teeth. Dropping the toothbrush to his right hip in an exact replica of Lucas McCain with his rifle, he fired several shots (complete with sound effects) directly at his brother.maxresdefault

My daughter turned to me  and said, “Lucas McCain is out.” And she  just gave me that look which told me that any further watching of The Rifleman when her boys are there will be at midnight, deep in a closet! It’s not too bad, though, I still have plenty of good television to watch when they are there…Paw Patrol, Curious George, Dinosaur Train and on really good days, even a little bit of Sid the Science Kid! Entertainment is all relative, right?

© Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In the Well, 2017. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In The Well with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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About my new underwear…

I think it’s fair to say most people would state that I indulge my grandsons a little….okay, so maybe I indulge them a lot. And because of this tendency to indulge them, I may have been the victim of a vicious prank by my children.

It all started with a bunch of little rescue dogs collectively known as the “Paw Patrol.” My grandchildren, while not abandoning such old favorites as Curious George and Wild Kratts, have become huge fans of the Paw Patrol.

They watch the episodes so much that I can say the words along with them and I have been grilled repeatedly by the boys as to which one is which. “Which one is this, Grandma?” asked my younger grandson in his best teacher voice on Skype one night. He was pointing to the little canine grinning at me from the front of his shirt, but fortunately, before I had to reveal my ignorance he was so eager to share, that he answered his own question. “That’s Marshall, Grandma,” he told me importantly and I nodded as though I’d known it all the time.

It turns out that the members of the Paw Patrol are a million dollar franchise, to which my grandsons are devoted in their efforts to collect them. They collect stuffed toys, action figures, pillows and blankets, rugs, shirts, hats and socks. They even have some Paw Patrol bubble bath that they use at Grandma’s house.

I thought they had reached the limit of Paw Patrol paraphernalia, but as usual, Grandma was behind the times on Paw Patrol. As my faithful Paw Patrol expert informed me one day, “I just like Paw Patrol unnerwear, Grandma!” Paw Patrol underwear! Grandma went in search of it and sure enough, all those little rescue puppies are decorating some pretty cool pairs of undershorts.

Grandma was able to relax. I had provided my sweet little boys with the ultimate in Paw Patrol gear. That was the end of it…or so I thought.

It seems that my quest for Paw Patrol “unnerwear” had given my younger daughter and her partners in crime (her husband and her best friend) an idea for something they could do to torment Grandma. On a visit to my town, they all disappeared for several hours at the friend’s house. I didn’t think too much of it until they came back to my house with a little gift for me: my very own “unnerwear” which they had decorated with Paw Patrol iron on stickers.DSCN2397

To make sure that I would not be able to refuse, they had my grandsons deliver the underwear to me. The boys, were of course, confident that I would be thrilled with my new stylish underwear. They brought it to me, exclaiming over how cool it was that now Grandma had Paw Patrol underwear, just like them. Although my  older grandson did point out that there was one significant difference, “It’s such BIG Paw Patrol underwear, Grandma!”

Needless to say, I have not attempted to wear the Paw Patrol underwear. Why? You may ask. I think it would be extremely awkward to put on the underwear featuring the little rescue canines, but even worse would be for me to get into an accident in those things. No, I think this Paw Patrol underwear will remain in the back of my drawer…at least until my daughter and her friend celebrate their birthdays; then they are going to get a Paw Patrol special delivery!

© Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In the Well, 2016. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In The Well with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 

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I’m in Love with George

Before anyone says anything, I know I’m married to Roy. But for a couple of years now, there have also been two little boys in my life…and in addition, there has been a monkey named George. And quite frankly, I love them all, but George has fast become a favorite with me.

For any parent of young children, you know, of course, that the George I refer to is a cartoon monkey named Curious George. George lives with the Man with the Yellow Hat. No name is given for the Man with the Yellow Hat and that is understandable to me. If I were the roommate of a small, mischievous monkey who was clearly smarter than me, I wouldn’t give out my name either!

Royce's Curious George doll

Royce’s Curious George doll

I met George when my older grandson Royce, began watching his morning show on PBS. At first, I will admit I was pretty derisive about the monkey who inevitably caused a mess or colossal misunderstanding and the clueless banana-colored man he lived with. It didn’t take long, though, before I began to see him in a new light.

George is universally well-liked. Of all the characters he runs across in his adventures, only the crabby little dog in the lobby of his building doesn’t like him and even then, they occasionally see eye to eye on things.  George tries to help everyone, he runs errands for his roommate, helps the local businesses solve their various problems and even helps out at the country house.

Through it all, my grandson Royce and then his younger brother Arthur have watched with avid faces and childish giggles the antics of this genial little monkey.  He teaches them math, music, English (even though he only grunts) and most of all, he teaches them that the world is full of wonderful things and they are all right there for them to explore.

Royce and Arthur visit my home regularly, and when they do, we always make time for George, whose qualities of humanity are high, especially for a non-human , and  he is an excellent model of caring compassion, whoever it is. The show is a fetching combination of child-like innocence  and almost genius behavioral lessons.

Royce as Curious George for Halloween

Royce as Curious George for Halloween

Someday, my boys won’t want to watch this wonderful, lovable monkey. I will miss that so much. I will miss their grinning faces and childish laughter. I will miss the fact that Royce never goes to sleep at night without clutching the stuffed version of Curious George I gave him a year ago. But for now, I will be so grateful for the devotion my boys show to their friend, Curious George and I will be even more grateful for the positive and protective influence George has had on my sweet little boys.

So yes, I am in love with a monkey named George and regardless of what the boys eventually decide, I think I always will be.

© Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In the Well, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Jackie Wells-Fauth and Drops In The Well with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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