Topeka Capital-Journal
Dec. 21, 1994

This Christmas season has been different, and the reason is that we have two granddaughters, 5 and 3, under our roof. I have found myself in some strange predicaments lately as I have made some effort to be a proper grandpa. It isn’t easy.

For example, for the first time ever, I went to the Christmas parade downtown, and it surprised me. I saw every employee of WIBW-TV, channel 13, with the possible exception of the janitor, and I wondered why they were there, riding in convertibles with their names on the door.

It was nice to see Mary and Ralph, and Dave, Ron and Michelle, But why wasn’t Jim Ramberg there in his truck, with his rifle, shooting holes in the air conditioner, the feat for which he is now famous?

He could have been backed up by the National Rifle Association’s Marching Assault Weapons Team, firing short bursts at random, but with its flag dipped in salute to dead air conditioners everywhere.

This is not to say I didn’t enjoy the parade. It had lively band music, clowns, funny cars, great horses and a surrey with the fringe on top. It also had a fire truck, and the thought has occurred to me that when Ramberg decides to go big game hunting, that will be his target.

Incidentally, the little girls, and their grandma, liked the parade, and I’m glad they forced me, under threats of reprisal, to go along.

The parade was one thing, and next was the Christmas tree. They left me at home when they went to buy it, figuring correctly, I would be obnoxious in insisting on a small, manageable tree. Fat chance.

They brought home a whopper and dumped it in the garage. It was tied up in plastic webbing, and when you removed this wrapper, about 50 lbs. of debris fell out of the tree, and another 100 lbs. remained stuck in it.

This had to be cleaned out. The trunk and bottom limbs had to be clipped so a tree stand would fit. Then it had to be dragged into the house, leaving massive amounts of debris in its wake, and hoisted upright.

It falls over. So, you yank it back to get it straight and mess with the stand, and it falls over in the other direction. This goes on for a couple of hours, as more debris showers down on the carpet.

Finally, It is done, and now all you have left to do is clean the carpet and the garage. This whole operation takes about a day and a half, and from it you learn, once more, these three things:

• Never have a Christmas tree.
• If you must have one, get an artificial tree.
• Don’t swear in front of the grandchildren, particularly if their mother and grandmother are present.

I was getting along fairly well with little girls until I tried explaining a cowboy movie to them. I told them the bad guys wear black hats and ride black horses, and I added that anybody with a mustache also is a bad guy.

“Our daddy,” they shouted, “has a mustache.”

Oh, I forgot.

Little girls are born to be teased. One day when everybody was gone, and I was bored, I folded laundry for about an hour. Later, Anne told her little ones what a nice guy grandpa was for folding all of their clothes.

Yes, I said, but I added that every time I came to an item of clothing I didn’t like, I threw it away, and I was afraid I had thrown away all of Kelly’s pants. She is the one who is 3. She looked questionably at me and then, and then Hope said grandpa’s just teasing.

But in the next breath, they asked where I’ve thrown them. I said maybe in a wastebasket, so they went to look. I said maybe in the garage, so they looked there. I said maybe Santa Claus would bring her some pants. I said I remembered I threw the old ones in the attic. They were on their way to look when higher authorities ended the game.

The girls and their grandma made a plate of cookies for them to give to their dad when he arrived. I helped myself and caught fire from both the girls and the higher authorities. From now on, I had to steal cookies from the plate.

When their dad, Gary, arrived, there were four cookies left, and I admit I felt guilty when they explained to him that grandpa had been stealing them. At my age, too. They also told him what I said about bad guys and mustaches.

The tree is decorated, and it has been a long time since we had anything like it in our house. There are a few presents under it, and there will be more.

We will be ready for Santa, and I promise the cookies the little ones leave out for him won’t be there when they wake up. I also want Santa to know what I said about guys with mustaches doesn’t apply to him.