Grandparents Acting Like Children (Fictoid)

Ever since their youngest granddaughter’s wedding -- a dreamy organic earth-mother affair officiated in a squash patch at the height of the summer solstice -- Lester and Ethel began acting…well…weird.

“Who could foretell this?” Ethel asked (rhetorically, of course).  “Grandparents were supposed to be dead and buried by our age in the good old days -- “

“Bad old days,” corrected Lester.

“ -- bad old days,” continued Ethel.  “We were supposed to be out of the picture by now.”

“There’s no real role for us as great-grandparents,” said Lester.  “Social inertia carries us from childhood to adulthood, giving us clues and guidance on how to live.

“But like you said, once we age past the grandparent stage, we’re like cows on ice, splaying about this way and that.

“There’s nothing left for us to do.  Our own children now get to fill the grandparent roles.”

“You know who else has nothing to do?” Ethel asked.  “Children.  No obligations, no responsibilities.”

“They need to learn,” said Lester.

“They need to play,” said Ethel.  “That’s what learning was supposed to be until the schools sucked all the joy out of it.  Play.”

“So you suggest we…?”

“Play,” said Ethel.

And play they did, becoming a huge embarrassment to their family.

Lester fancied himself a composer and banged out operas on the kitchen pots and pans, Ethel became a craft-maven and was never seen without a gluestick in her hand.

They ran about their house like barefoot urchins in wildly mismatched clothing, and if their children and grandchildren had ever asked, they would have learned Lester and Ethel had rediscovered what their great-grandchildren had:  Joy.

© Buzz Dixon