By Bonnie Brown

Columnist

Many years ago when older son Dennis and wife Lillie’s sons Andrew and Bennett were young – about 5 and 3 – they asked us to keep the grandsons while they went out of town.  

Of course we were thrilled to do so.  I bought a couple of new toys for them and got everything ready for their visit.  

They played together pretty well and didn’t fuss much with one another.  Tom and I were very watchful.  These little ones were not going to take a tumble or get a scrape on our watch!  

When it was time to eat, I told Tom I had fried catfish, French fries, and green beans.  

He asked if I thought the boys would eat catfish, and I said yes, I thought so.  I felt pretty confident that they would eat the French fries and the green beans which I consider a universal favorite.  

When we sat down, Andrew  asked, “Granny, what is this?”  

I hesitated for a minute, then replied, “It’s chicken-fish.”  

I knew they loved chicken tenders, and the catfish resembled the tenders, so I went with that.  They asked me if they could have some Coke to drink.  They probably thought it was a long shot, but why not ask.   

I knew their parents didn’t want them to have caffeine, so I said, “It just so happens that I have some green Coke,”  and gave them each a Sprite.  They were two satisfied little boys.  They ate the catfish and happily drank the Sprite.  

Another time, Dennis was working late, Andrew was at a friend’s house, and Lillie had a PTA meeting at school. She asked if we could keep Bennett.  Of course, we said yes and I decided to make Bennett chocolate chip cookies, his favorite.  

While his mom was away, I presented the cookies to Bennett, and he immediately asked how many he could have. I said he could start with two.  Those were quickly gone, and negotiations resumed.  I gave him two more.  

Again, they disappeared quickly, and that sweet little face asked again if he could have more.  I told him I didn’t want him to get sick from eating so many cookies.  He assured me that he wouldn’t, so I presented him with two more.  

Yet again, he asked for more.  I said “Bennett, I don’t think Mom would like it that you’re eating so many cookies.”   I went on to tell him that I’d give him two more, but he couldn’t tell his mom and I told him he better not get sick and throw up.  He assured me he wouldn’t.  

He enjoyed the cookies, and he didn’t throw up.  But the minute his mother walked through the door to take him home, he announced “Mommy, Granny let me eat eight cookies!”  

So much for a solemn pact between a grandson and his granny.  At least he was good at counting.