Today I got to pick up my Grandson Brayden. I haven’t seen him in a year, and boy, what a difference a year makes! He’s grown a foot taller and even more handsome! And, a lot smarter.
The drive home from where I picked him up was mostly uneventful, except for the cloud-to-ground lightning strikes that scared the bejesus out of me and I had to suppress the gasps because, you know, I didn’t want my Grandson to think that I was a complete wus.
Also, the conversations seemed to take on a more, um, how would you say it… “sophisticated” air. We grabbed some grub on the go, and after Brayden had chowed down on his Happy Meal, the question that arose from him concerned how a part of the toy inside was able to move up and down. Well, I certainly didn’t know how, but he had a theory. “Well, Grandma, it’s possible that kinetic energy is involved.” And he goes on to explain how this type of energy works, and even supplies a visual example.
WHAT?? This kid is 9!! Where the hell did he find out about kinetic energy?!? What kind of cartoons is he watching, anyway?
Then he pulls out his Nintendo DSi player, and I ask him what game he is playing. Grand Theft Auto Chinatown Wars, he tells me. For some reason, I’m not liking this answer. But, I keep my opinion to myself and let him play the game. Pretty soon I’m hearing things that really make me hate this game.
Brayden: Dang, now I need a new paint job, but it will cost me $200.
Me: So, how do you get the money in the game to pay for it?
Brayden: Probably by doing work for the drug dealers.
Me: Brayden, who bought this game for you?
I will not say his answer, but I will tell you that it was bought by adults that should know better.
I let him play his game and hear all about guns, running over people and being chased by the cops. I hold myself back from ripping this machine from his hands. I control the voice in my head that is telling me that what he is playing is not appropriate. Well, duh!!
We finally make our next stop to buy some supplies for the weekend and I decide it is my duty as a Grandma to buy him a game that is a little more age-appropriate… for me. But it is my little secret and let him pick out what he wants and all my fears wash away when he selects a Lego version of Indiana Jones. I may have sighed quite heavily. Or thanked a higher power. Or done a fist pump.
Either way, we were both happy and he plops the game in the device when we get in the car and continue onward.
As we get closer to home, he decides that he wants to go straight home rather than stop at Grandpa’s shop, because we have milk in the car and he doesn’t want it to go bad. Plus, he wants to play with his train set.
This boy is growing up, but he still has some kid left in him.