Chocolate Pudding on the Chair

"Pop-pop, help," came the words over the din in the house on Sunday as the family gathered for a celebration.

Jax urgently was calling out to be heard from the other room, and so in I went to see him standing there with a half-eaten chocolate pudding container in his hand pointing ashamedly at the glob of pudding in the chair where in in mere moments his mother would be sitting .

I smiled and reassured him that it was not a problem.

And in reflecting on the moment, I realized, my kids had it really bad when I was trying to be a Dad.

I was uptight and every transgression deserved an equal and opposite reaction. I remember my favorite saying: "Accidents kill!" Which I frequently spoke when accidents happened.

Jeremy has since reminded me that breaking a glass "accidentally" in the house was tantamount to a death sentence. And he has also reminded me of the huge pile of dirt I had delivered for the gardens one summer and that I wouldn't let him enjoy with his trucks as I was transferring it load by wheel barrow load to the garden.

I had no sense of humor.  I should have stopped and played in the dirt with him.

Being a grandfather has mellowed me a bit--I don't seem to get to worried about things that can be cleaned, fixed, or thrown away.

Wow, I wish I had been more of a grandfather when I was being a Dad.