I celebrated Labor Day this past weekend in east central Missouri with my nine year old grandson, CMS, at the home of my parents. It's always nice to have a change of scenery, and I had been wanting to take him to the lake with me for a weekend -- no [other] girls allowed. His household has enough estrogen to sink a ship full of rhinestone tiaras and pink feather boas. Since his dad has been working long hours six days a week, C was long overdue for some scratching, spitting and other manly pursuits that girls just don't appreciate. Thankfully, the weather was warm enough for him to swim for a little while on Sunday, but the real highlight of his weekend centered around wheels.
If he wasn't begging his Aunt Cathy for a ride on the four-wheeler, he was driving his pal, Daisy, around on my father's golf cart. I really enjoyed seeing him spend some one-on-one time with his great-grandpa as a shade-tree mechanic's apprentice.
The cart seemed to work just fine before the tinkering, but the aroma of gasoline was apparently too tempting and beckoned them to do a little fine tuning. Well, I guess it did ... but I'm just a girl, so what do I know?
C and I agreed on our way home that the weekend didn't seem to last long enough. Nevertheless, it was long enough to make some memories.
We sure had a grand time.
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