Dearest beloved Charlize,
Amazing. You, my little princess, are now four years old. Your giggles make me smile. Your laughter warms my heart. Your blow blow kisses light up my world.
I asked the Wicked Witch of Neenah what you wanted for your birthday and she told me that you would really like a new set of wheels…. Now, I’m not 100% certain if I bought the wagon that you used to ride around on, but I know that I got the tricycle for you. I’m beginning to have serious concerns about this pattern. I can see it now. There will be a motorized little Barbie doll convertible for you to drive to the playground in. Then a little bigger bicycle for you to ride around the block on. Oh, sure, you love me now. But wait until the training wheels come off and the reflection of the neighbor boy glares off your mirrored sunglasses and you won’t even remember who Grandma Plaintiff is. You’ll be leading him on a wild goose chase as he tries to steal that first kiss from you. Oh, you’ll remember me eventually when it’s time to trade up to a bigger set of wheels. More power. More comfort. More speed. More Zoom-Zoom.
I worry that I’m nothing more to you than the used car salesman that keeps taking your old trade-ins and providing you with a slightly more expensive set of wheels. Where does it end? Does every American Girl really need her own Quad ATV at the age of 6? Do you truly need a dirt bike of your own at 9? A convertible at the age of 15? Must you really have a motorcycle of your own at 16? Does every God fearing American Girl really need her own Harley-Davidson at the age of 17? A new to you 1968 Fire Engine Red Camaro for when you graduate High School with honors? A DeLorean DMC-12 complete with a Flux Capacitor for Spring Break 2030? I mean really, would you really go back in time and help me get rid of the DNA on the shovel? Really? Yeah, you say that now… just like you do when I cry when you’re leaving and you come gently stroke my face while telling me “Its ok Grandpa. I’ll be back in a minute…”
I understand you need faster set of wheels to continue to get away from the boys as they lie crying in the street from broken hearts… but your brother wants a new set of wheels to.
What ever is a Grandpa to do?