My Granddaughter

I am convinced that people over seventy and kids under eight understand that life is a joke. My only question is, which age group knows it best.

Let me tell you a story that comes close to answering that.

Last weekend, my family got together to celebrate the birthday of one of my daughters.

Toward the end of the evening, when everyone was preparing to leave, a ring dropped to the floor. It was my wedding ring that I keep in my jewelry case. The closest person to where the ring landed was my nine year old grandson.

I immediately reacted, “don’t take things that don’t belong to you.”

Then his seven year old sister said in an expressive and earnest voice that her brother didn’t take the ring. She’s known for being a very honest person. I immediately believed her, and quickly apologized to my grandson.

My grandson looked at me and said, “that’s ok grandpa, don’t worry about it.”

My granddaughter then asked me, “Grandpa, who do you think could have taken the ring?”

“I don’t know,” was my answer.

She came closer to me and whispered, “I do.”

“Who?” I asked.

Looking up at me with arms stretched out, eyes wide open, and forehead furled she said, “Ghosts grandpa. Ghosts took your ring.”

She held her expression, and I quickly responded, “there are no ghosts in the house.”

“Yes there are. They’re all over the place. Just look for them.”

Right then my five year old grandson, who looks like he’s straight out of central casting as a member of The Little Rascals, backed her up by saying, “you can hear them right now, they’re on top of the house with a chain saw cutting into the roof.”

I started laughing and said,  ” you have a great imagination.”

He responded, “Grandpa, I don’t have an imagination.”

By this time, I was out numbered, and out storied. “Ok,  I’ll check it out.”

At that point they all started climbing into their parents’ cars. As my granddaughter’s car was driving off, the back seat window came down, and my granddaughter shouted, ” be careful grandpa”.

The next night, at 9:45 p.m., the same granddaughter called me, and made me “pinky finger promise” that I would come over to her house and bring my ring, because with her new spy kit, she could get some finger prints.

I said, ” but ghosts don’t leave finger prints.”

“You don’t know that grandpa.”

“Well, you’re right.”

“Pinky finger promise, grandpa?”


“How’s M?”

“Fine, she’s asleep.”

“Tell her I love her,  bye grandpa.”