It must have been when I was around eight years of age. One of those festive days when my grandparents would come over to our place. Grandpa, from my mothers side, did not really like to stay anywhere else but home. Something I can relate too. My own bed in my own home, that is how I prefer it. It was pretty special when he was okay with staying the night over. My brother and I were happy when he did. Because he'd tell us a bedtime story. Not just any story already told in many books, but one of his own. And they were always open ended, just when they got very tensive he'd say: "Now it is time for you both to sleep, I will continue to tell this very exciting story the next time. It is just way too thrilling for now. Maybe I cannot even tell what happened next..." We then would keep firing questions at him for a while and he'd smile a lot. Forget going to sleep, there was a thrilling story to be finished!
Much to the annoyance of my Mum, because she had told her Dad not to get us all psyched again. Because the next day she'd had to deal with two boys that did not get enough sleep. She could have known better as she knew his story telling ways. When she was a little kid he once told her a very exiting story. And for the tale to continue he had to cross a Railroad crossing. His adventure had been mind-blowing, of course, my Mother still remembers it like that very vividly. "So, there I was, at the Railroad crossing and just before I wanted to cross it, there was a train coming." Then he would go on recapturing a bit about how the story had gone so far and how he needed to get across the Railroad track. And he'd continue like: "Finally the long long train passed and I was about to cross, when something bad happened...!" He'd then pause for a bit, building up the expectation level. And then when my Mother would ask him: "And then Dad, what happened next?" The tale would become a drag by him saying: "Well, I was ready to cross the track and continue my adventure, but just as I wanted to go the other side... Another train came, so I had to wait again, can you believe it...!? He was a star in keeping that going for a while and then end it with: "Nah, wont continue it is way too exciting, will tell you when you are older."
My Mother would complain sometimes about how she as a child was not supposed to say any of the words he was using in front of his two grand-kids. He'd then honestly state, with a big smile, how her task was to raise us, while he just could be a Grandfather. So he probably taught us many things parents would not. Do not know, guess my brother and I could understand the difference between having a good time and when things would get serious. Although I remember one time that I found it difficult to spot whether he was serious or just mainly joking again. Think it was at some Easter weekend and our Grandparents stayed the night over. My Grandfather from Dad's side had died in a car accident a couple of years before. My Grandmother had survived, but it hit her hard. It was nice that she was there too. And my Grandfather from my Mum her side knew how to get people to smile, at least. So the mood, as always, was very good.
There would be a family dinner. All kinds of food, but mostly good company. Still like that kind of happening, having dinner with a lot of people who are close to me. No serious shit that could ruin everyone's appetite, but just fun, good times and preferably some laughter too. Already liked that as a kid, guess in that way I never grew up. Maybe I did not grow up at all.
During one of those dinners we'd have vegetable soup for starters. Never cared for soup that much, found it a bit weird. It is just like some cooked vegetables in a lot of water. Maybe somebody one day cooked some mixed vegetables and did not want to drain the stock. Not enough vegetables, what to do? Some pasta crumbles left, hey let's toss that in as well, it will swell up nicely. Then serving it in bowls, a wee bit toasted breadcrumbs in and hey presto, Bob's yer uncle! "Hmm, now that's nouvelle cooking, what do you call this?" And the inventor of it might have stated something like: "Dunno, it's nothing really, I just tried to soup up the shortage of vegetables by adding other stuff in." Where ever since then it would have been known as Soup. And one can soup things up, just by adding water to it, or some other things like pasta. Once being a main course it then moved to being a starter, a little filling, a step up to the main course.
After a three course meal, ending with desert, we'd sit at the table for a while. Talking, laughing, having a merry time together. My Grandfather and Dad telling jokes, or we would just talk about anything. For my brother and me those were great family gathering times. Those were the days when we were allowed to go to bed late. We did not want to miss a thing. And so we stayed at the table, even when dinner was done, which was a miracle in and by itself. My Mum announced that my brother and I could help to clear the table. Where just when we were about to my Grandfather started to make some moaning noises. Like he was in some pain. Not awful, but just making enough noise to get us all silenced. While it had been a fun dinner so far, this sounded a bit serious. My Mother looked at her Dad with her eyes a bit closed and frowning. While my Dad seemed to have a bit of a grin on his face... Me, the little 8 year young ignorant lad was a bit worried and asked: "What's wrong Granddad?"
"Oh, it is just a little pain I feel in my lower backend, I think I've got a splinter in my back." At that moment I even got more worried: "That has got to hurt real bad, how is that possible!?" Did not understand how he could have gotten a splinter in his back, we were just having dinner... "DAD, CUT IT OUT NOW, YOU'RE SCARING THE BOYS!!!", my Mum said quite loud and angry. And when I looked at my father I saw how his face had turned to red, while it seemed he did his best not to laugh out loud. Next my Grandfather cracked open in a booming laughter telling me: "Ha ha ha., do not worry, it is just a big brown splinter, I can pull it out in the toilet!" The face of my mother had almost turned to purple, she was clearly not amused. While my Dad was laughing with tears rolling over his cheeks, saying: "Son, do not worry, your Grandfather just has got to take a dump, Whahahaha!"
It left me a kind of in a state of shock for a while. So, all I had been worried about was actually my Granddad telling us he had to take one hell of a shait? Now, I would never do that when I grew up, I lied to myself back then. As whenever my brother and I get together, when families were still 'allowed' to meet up, we'd at some point would start to make jokes. In a way that would have made our Dad and Granddad laugh out loud. Almost cannot wait until my offspring gets her first born, so at one point I can tell at the dinner table how I've got a lower back pain...
Anyway, thanks for reading my shit-post. And remember, do not try this at home. As it may not go down well with all present in the audience.
