As our grandchildren get older, grandparents might be under the misconception that they won't be "needed" as they once were. Well, that's true on a certain level...diapers, naps are outgrown. Eventually, baby-sitting, as such, is required less. As our grandchildren grow, age, mature, become more, shall we say worldly, more active, our purpose shifts. You might be familiar with my Blog: THERE'S NOTHING NEW UNDER THE SUN where I recount my Grandmother - Nana, a Volkswagen, a house and relate it all to Todd and his glasses. This time Tess worked my creativity.
Tess dances. Tess is ten years old and is in some advanced Ballet classes and Hip Hop. One day, I received a frantic call from Tess, while she was supposed to be dressing for Ballet Class: "Hey Meme! (may may) help! This is an emergency! I can't find my shoe!" Unknowingly, I responded: "Well Tess, I can't see it from here, wear a different pair." Hysterically: "Meme! You don't understand! Mommy will flip, she'll be so mad, she'll be way more than upset if I can't find my other ballet shoe! You know the new ones that you bought with the split sole? Those! I can't dance and rehearse for the show without them, but..." Now the tears flooded the phone lines between Zanesville and Kettering, Ohio. Oh dear...I closed my eyes and recalled my Grandfather Scillieri (Dad's Dad) ... aka Ralph the Barber. Usually my Nana bailed me out of everything and anything...but, one time, I needed a Sicilian Cad, widower for about twenty years at the time, swinging single.
Wander back with me:
Before I could obtain my certification to teach Art and Theatre from Grades K-12, in the State of New Jersey, I had to participate in "Practice Teaching". For one half of a semester, I worked with Mary Knap in Pompton Lakes High School...had High School knocked! For the second half - the Pompton Lakes Junior High School. Judy someone was my cooperating teacher. She was nice, helpful, a pleasure. But, the Principal was another story. No sooner did I sign in at the office on my first day in the school, did she look at my name and said: "Hmmm...Scillieri, huh?" Eagerly and two years too young to be there anyway (another story), I responded: "Yes, Mrs. Uscinowitz!" A scowl filled the narrow, pinched face: "Hmmm...do you know Ralph, the Barber, Scillieri?" This is where the entire day headed straight to H---. "Oh yes!" That's my Grandfather!" The scowl turned into a conniption, as Bill Cosby used to describe, where her head split, her eyes glowed red and fire came from her nose and mouth:"You will never be a teacher in New Jersey, ever Missy! He stood up my Aunt Louise last Saturday night and she's heartbroken!" I went from her office to the Art Room, introduced myself and hustled home...now what? I phoned Grandpa: "Hey Grandpa! Help!" I proceeded to tell him the Aunt Louise story adding: "Grandpa, when we hang up, call Aunt Louise, ask her out, take her out every weekend until I finish practice teaching! Got that?" Grandpa: "Oh Laura! I love you, but we went out a few times and she wouldn't even invite me in for a cup of coffee!" On the verge of hysteria: "Grandpa! Just eight weeks! We won't tell anybody what we're doing, but, please, just eight weeks!" A slight groan, a few choice Sicilian utterances: "Oh, okay, okay." The next morning, the principal was waiting for me with coffee, donuts and a warm: "Oh Laura, you'll do wonderfully here!"
And so:
Next door to the dance Studio, is Flair - a dance supply store. Owned by the Dance Instructor's Mom. I phoned Kelly. "Hi, this is Laura Macy, Tess' Grandmother." After some chit-chat and on and on, I unfolded the plan. "Tess will be in after her Mom drops her off at the studio. She will run into your shop. She is missing one shoe of the new pair that we just bought. Could you please have a pair in her size ready for her to go? My card number is:----------------. Please keep this between us, don't mention it to her Mom...Tiff? She laughed and we pinkie swore that the phone conversation never happened.
After a rehearsal, Tess went home, thinking her shoes were in the box, in her bag. And so, tears and panic with assorted screams of horror: "Meme! My new shoes are gone! Maybe they fell out? Do you think that someone stole them? I can't dance without the shoes! What are we going to do?"
Back up a tiny bit:
Practice teaching was a smashing success. Aunt Louise was in love. The principal gave me glowing reviews, had lunch with me frequently, loved my family, assured me that I would be the best teacher in the State. My father grew suspicious. "You didn't tell anyone that you know my father, did you? Ya know, Laur, Ralph the Barber is a gigolo at best. Did you say that he's dating your principal's aunt? Never admit that you know the joker!" Gee, nothing like hind sight, I thought. When practice teaching ended, grades in, Grandpa called: "I gave it my best, I'm done! Eight weeks, eight weeks and she still didn't invite me in for even one crappy cup of coffee! I'm done!" Thinking quickly, I said: "Grandpa, I can't let Mrs. Uscinowitz or Aunt Louise think that we did this, just so that I could pass. Dad will go nuts! See this through Graduation night. Bring her to the ceremony. You just can't drop her!" Oh boy, the Litany of Sicilian Saints in more than colorful Sicilian! "Laura! She'll think that going to your graduation is a d--- marriage proposal!" Getting edgy, I responded: "Grandpa!" With great sighing: "Oh, okay." Between you and me, for a few years later, he occasionally took out Aunt Louise when Clara wasn't available, but she never invited him in. Dad still wonders about the whole thing, but only Grandpa and I know for sure.
Now:
I called Kelly, yet again: "Hi Kelly, this is..." Immediately: "Hi Laura! What can I do for you?" I told her about the new lost shoes, the need for shoes again and asked if she needed my card number again. "Oh, of course not! I have it! I'll pull another pair of shoes for Tess and label them inside. When you come to town, how about a nice brunch and a long, long visit? We are becoming soul mates. No pun intended! And of course, it's our secret." Tiff still wonders why Kelly and I are such pals, but only Kelly, Tess and I know for sure.
As our Grandchildren age, you might learn to dread, yet learn to embrace: HEY MEME! (or Opa, Gran, Nana, Grandpa, Papa, Mimi, Oma, Grannie, Poppa) HELP!
