It All Makes Sense

"Three-year-olds learn primarily through exploring, using all the senses." So says the "Child Development Tracker, "a feature on the PBSparents web page. I may have already suspected that, but I know it for sure after spending twenty-five straight, mostly one-on-one, hours with Beenie the last couple days. With Pa-pa working basically sun-up to sundown at our state fair this week, Beenie was just what I needed to add some fun and excitement to these long days at home by myself.

Just look at that face. Doesn't it just cry out with enthusiasm for exploring? Indeed, the two of us had a glorious time together, with no sense left undeveloped (and some of them working overtime). Here is a rundown of our adventures for the perusal of all you child development specialists:

Certainly we deserve high marks in the tactile category. Those ten little Lego people (most of them wearing helmets--go figure) sitting side by side on the block bench we created took some serious hand-eye coordination, small motor skills, and downright manual dexterity. Add to this a couple hours in the pool both days, and you have a field day for your sensory receptors.

Accompanying us to the pool were three plastic dinosaurs--twin brontosauruses Tex and Rex (who is surprised?) and Max, who, just to complicate things, is a T-Rex. The dinosaurs were quite happy to bob around for our entertainment, until, due to minuscule, invisible holes in their anatomy, they took on water and sank. This required a deep-sea fishing expedition, after which considerable squeezing was required to rid them of excess water, leading naturally to a spirited discussion, complete with demonstration, of the potty habits of prehistoric creatures.

In our drier moments, Beenie and I moved on to develop the senses of taste and smell, which took the form of a huge bowl of popcorn the first day and a box of donuts (with chocolate icing) the next morning. To accompany our popcorn ("Can you get your own bowl, Googie?"), Beenie picked a movie from my sizable collection and we settled with our blankets into a huge recliner big enough for the two of us to sit side by side.

I would not have expected the movie he picked--Baby Mozart--but it offered us thirty minutes of utter nostalgia and serenity with its parade of colorful baby toys against the backdrop of lively, upbeat Mozart music. A VHS videotape we played together every afternoon Beenie stayed with me during his first year, it has not lost its appeal for him despite its intent to target younger children. Given his choice, Beenie asked for "Baby Ein-a-stein," and in that we got our fill of visual and auditory delight--supplemented, of course, by the books we snuggled up together to read at naptime.

Beenie's favorite of my storybooks, at the moment, are  Margaret Wise Brown's Goodnight Moon (which he calls "Fireplace" because of the cover picture), Jane Miller's Farm Alphabet Book, Roger Priddy's Happy Baby Colors, and Mary Murphy's I Like It When . . . ."  His CD of choice for car travel is Barney's House, and with that, we are back to where we started with Barney's close relatives Rex, Tex, and Max the T-Rex.

So, yeah, PBS people, the three-year-old-year is truly sensory in nature for both little boys and their Googies. He might be exploring for the purpose of learning, but I just get to revel in the sensory delights that are mine alone. I get to enjoy the warm snuggles, that cute little voice--and that rare moment when I actually get to have a bite of my own popcorn.

The Making of a Pa-pa

Googie's Attic certainly wouldn't be the same without a permanent fixture named "Pa-pa." Certainly, in the eight years we have been grandparents, Pa-pa has done his share to make the memories happy ones.

It is Pa-pa that keeps our swimming pool going, builds our weenie roast fires, and gives the best rides on a John Deere Gator. So Pa-pa, on your 73rd birthday, here is a little recap featuring you and your kiddos.

It was Sooby who first made you Pa-pa on June 30, 2007. She was followed closely by her brother Pooh on Feb. 2, 2009.

Then, on Oct. 4, 2010, their little sister, Bootsie, came along. Looks like you must've really liked that red and black plaid shirt!

Son Teebo started his own branch of our family tree when Beenie (left) joined the fun on March 20, 2012. Three months later, on June 25, daughter Cookie added Zoomie to the line-up.

Last (so far) came Beenie's little brother, our little Heero, on Nov. 4, 2013.

And that, dear Pa-pa, is how we came to be the grandparents of six children in a little over six years. It has been a blur of diapers, high chairs, car seats, and sippy cups, but I am sure that neither of us would trade the experience for anything.

Just this morning, from his vacation on a Florida beach, Beenie called to sing "Happy Birthday" to you. We all echo that sentiment and look forward to many more good times to come.

The Dire Prognosis

It is somewhat disconcerting, after all these years, to think that I might lose not only my job but also my home. Sad as it may be, I predict at least a 50-50 chance that, in the not too distant future, my services may no longer be needed in my current work environment.

It's not that I haven't been busy. In fact, the past eight years have found me very much in demand. At times I have had more customers than I could accommodate. Nothing or no one in the immediate vicinity is able to perform my job quite like I do. You might say I am built for this job--and I have worked faithfully and diligently at it for a long time now.

Let the record show that I have executed my duties despite considerable abuse. I have been climbed, mauled, and kicked. I have endured an abundance of pounding and caterwauling. I am often left in a total mess.

This is not my first time to be uprooted. In fact, it was just about eight years ago this summer that I was shoved into a garage in an undignified manner and stuck with a totally demeaning price tag of $15. Luckily for me, a nice lady named "Googie" came along and adopted me. She gave me a good bath, and gave me my own corner of her kitchen.

She got a good deal. I come from good stock, the Fisher-Price line. I needed very little training, and never produced a mess of my own making. I have been caught many times, however, with egg on my face as well as on my other various body parts. Still, I have stood tall, kept quiet, and never snitched on any of those little rascals who tried to make me look bad.

Just look at this innocent face:

I ask you, do you think I should be forced to leave my happy home here at Googie and Pa-pa's? Or, worse yet, subjected to another garage line-up?

I will admit I am worried. My sixth customer is just about to turn two years old, and already his legs dangle way down past my foot-rest. Is it my fault he is such a big, healthy kid? Already I have heard him say he wants to sit at the counter with my five other former customers. How quickly they forget.

So as you can clearly see, my future is at best uncertain and at worst in utter peril. Unless there is soon evidence of a seventh grandkid for Googie and Pa-pa, I am toast, and I don't mean the kind that is permanently petrified in all my nooks and crannies.

Here's to Dr. Seuss!

It's official--Dr. Seuss is immortal.

Although he died in 1991 at age 87, his heretofore unpublished book is being released this month, according to the current issue of American Profile (July 19-25, 2015, p. 6).

Yes, right there on America's bookshelves, alongside fellow Pulitzer Prize winner Harper Lee's much-anticipated Go Set a Watchman, will be Theodor Seuss Geisel's What Pet Should I Get? I can't decide which one I am the most anxious to get my hands on.

While Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird has been, up to now, the sole ticket to her widespread literary fame, Dr. Seuss's prolific collection of children's books has nurtured the imaginations of generations of children for nearly a century. Among them, I am proud to say, have been my little brother, my own children, and my grandkids.

On the occasion of his new book release nearly twenty-five years after his death, I offer him this poetic tribute, composed in the tradition of his own readily recognizable rhyme and metrical patterns. The poem is an acrostic, meaning that the first letters of each line, when read downward, spell out his name. I hope it will bring some great memories to mind as you anticipate with me the release of What Pet Should I Get?

A Salute to Dr. Seuss

The Cat in the Hat came when Mother was out.

He made our fish nervous and then made him shout.

Each Who down in Whoville remembers the day

Old Grinch came and kidnapped their Christmas away.

Do you like green eggs? Will you eat some green ham?

Oh, come on and try them--be like Sam I Am!

Remember The Foot Book and all of those feet

So distinctly unique as they walked down the street?

Elephants don't often roost in a tree

Unless Horton sits down where a bird ought to be.

Such genius poured from this pen and--oh boy--

Such a legacy left for us all to enjoy!

Geisel was great with the rhythm and rhyme.

Ev'ry kid with a book of his had a great time

Imagining characters, playing with sound

So ingrained in the words that this poet wrote down.

Each fun-loving reader, regardless of age,

Loves the way Doc could play with the words on a page.

The Dessert Factory

Take one six-quart Rival electric ice cream maker. Add two grandkids who are staying at your house for the week. Then, mix up a few choice ingredients to pack with layers of rock salt and crushed ice. If you follow this procedure carefully on the first night of the kids' visit, you will have your dessert menu planned for the week, and you will have happy kids that look something like this:

From the mixing to the packing, Sooby and Pooh completed all the steps of the ice-cream manufacturing themselves. They combined three 8-ounce packets of Rival Creamy Vanilla Ice Cream Mix, six cups of whole milk, six cups of Half & Half, and two generous tablespoons of vanilla. For the kids, the mix is easiest because it requires no egg-cracking or cooking, and trust me when I say that flavor and texture are in no way compromised.

                                                 

Once the mix is prepared, move the metal canister to the plastic bucket and secure the motorized top piece. One side of a double sink is perfect for this as long as you are within an appliance cord's length from an electrical outlet. That way, you can use the other half of the sink for the bag of crushed ice and your rock salt.

Show the kids how to pack the freezer in layers of salt and ice. Use the opportunity, if you wish, to discuss the freezing and melting processes and explain how the freezer works. Once it is packed, plug it in and begin the approximately twenty-minute-long freezing process. Coach the kids to add salt and ice as needed until the thickened ice cream halts the motor.

Tell the kids they can "lick the dasher" as a preview, but cork the canister as soon as possible and set it in your freezer to harden overnight. The next night you can have the first of any desired litany of ice cream treats, all made with your special homemade ice cream.

During the course of the week we had root beer floats, hot fudge sundaes, banana splits, and a side of ice cream with a preview cupcake in honor of Sooby's fast-approaching eighth birthday.

This was the kids' first time to make homemade ice cream all by themselves. They loved both the process and the results. For me, it was nice to have dessert already prepared each night. Some nights, we saved the treat until right before bedtime.

There is nothing that says "summer" like a freezer of rich, creamy ice cream. I would be willing to bet that homemade ice cream becomes a Googie Camp staple. Next year, we may try a new flavor (strawberry was suggested), add some new toppings, and experiment with the fine art of malt- and shake-making.

I didn't tell the kids, but I saved just enough ice cream for Pa-pa and me to have a small dish apiece tonight. This way, the flavor of a great summer visit can last just a little bit longer.

Lidz!

Want a wacky, off-the-wall art project to do with your kiddos? You may want to try the one Sooby, Pooh, and I have nicknamed "LIDZ!" We made it up ourselves.

All you need is a loaded glue gun, a medium-sized cardboard box, and about a year. By that, I mean you tuck your box in an out-of-the-way corner about a year before you want to do your project--and start saving plastic lids.

Yes, lids. All kinds. After about a year you will have a most colorful and eclectic collection that looks something like this:

You know you are ready for the construction phase of your project when you find yourself, as I did this past week, in the company of a couple grandkids with vivid imaginations.

The challenge is simple: Put the various lids together and design something. Then, Googie will wield her trusty glue gun to give your creation permanence. It was in this way that a unique line of original toys was born. Allow me to illustrate:

First, Pooh, who is fascinated by all things army, used fiber container lids and the top from a Bath and Body Works fragrance bulb to create a canteen, left. At right, a Tresemme hairspray lid and a top from a squeezable tube of toddler fruit combine to form a hand grenade. In just minutes, Pooh has upgraded his stash of GI Joe paraphernalia and found a way for the two of them to remain hydrated longer in desert terrain.

Demonstrating Pooh's softer side is this delicious-looking cupcake (lids from Extra detergent and Downy fabric softener) and its accompanying decorating tube (lids from Avon Sweet Honesty cologne and a mini yellow food coloring container).

Not to be outdone, Sooby adds a layer cake (assorted lids of different sizes) and a second decorating tube to the set.

And then, as only Sooby can, she comes up with this:

Give up? What you see here is a penguin (top center--see the white belly?) teaching her three chicks (right) to ice fish on a frozen lake (foreground--the red lid is the fish). At left is the penguin's nest containing one unhatched egg. I realize that, most likely, you had already figured those things out. (But just in case, I decided to include an explanation in the interest of completeness.)

Even I was able to get in on the fun by designing and constructing this Thomas-the-Train relative, which Beenie calls a "Moco-Lotive":

The body is made of two Static Guard lids topped with a Bath and Body Works shower gel lid (engineer's cabin) and Avon Sweet Honesty cologne lid (smokestack). On the front is another Bath and Body Works fragrance bulb top, while the wheels feature a combination of lids from milk jugs and, again, squeezable toddler fruit (Those make great spokes, don't you think?).

All in all, I have to pronounce our LIDZ! project a success. In a little over an hour we made some neat new toys and got a chance to exercise our creativity.

The only problem? I am in such a habit of saving lids that I may not be able to stop cold turkey. As it is, we still have enough leftover lids to stock the Art Department of Googie Camp for several summers to come.
 

The American Institution of Root Beer

The other day I was thinking about the A & W Root Beer stand that used to be located about half a mile from the house where I grew up. From the house, an easy walk of 15-20 minutes on a summer afternoon took me, car-hop apron in hand, to my first part-time job during the summers of 1967 and 1968.

Maybe it was the memory of those foamy mugs of root beer sloshing out on the trays I lugged across a gravel parking lot to hang on rolled-down car windows. Maybe it was the thought of amassing a whole ten dollars in tips on a weekend night.

Whatever the case, something told me last weekend that it was time for the grandkids to experience the divine taste sensation of a root beer float. It would be a tasty, easy dessert to greet us after the 60-mile drive home from our annual family reunion. With that in mind, I had the root beer and vanilla ice cream at the ready.

I don't think there is anything more fun than giving the kids the chance to try something new, and their root beer float initiation proved to be no exception. I had even frozen some almond milk to serve as an ice cream substitute for little Zoomie, who is allergic to dairy products.

The official results of the root beer test varied widely among the kids. Sooby, who doesn't care much for foods in the creamy/marshmallowy category, tolerated her float sample but opted out for ice cream and cake. But her brothers and sister loved their exquisite concoctions of texture and flavor and required seconds. Pooh required thirds and made me promise to save some root beer for his return trip next week, a request that I am happy to honor.

We used none other than A & W Root Beer, of course, and when one of the kids asked me what those initials stand for, I went to the official A & W website for the answer. There I learned that A & W stands for "Allen" and "Wright," who first marketed the beverage to the public on a wide scale in 1922.

Roy Allen, the site says, actually created the brew and first served it in Lodi, California, in 1919 to people attending a parade to honor soldiers returning home from World War I. It was also in Lodi that A & W pioneered drive-in accessibility and curbside service by carhops.

The stands became even more popular in the era of World War II and following, when more people began driving cars. Finally, in 1971, A & W Root Beer became available in cans and bottles at the corner grocery.

A little quick subtraction tells us that A & W Root Beer will have its ninety-sixth anniversary this summer. Now, that's a cause for celebration. I can think of no better way to commemorate this momentous occasion that with root beer foaming atop vanilla ice cream on a grand scale when Pooh comes to spend next week at Googie's.