He’s sixteen now, he does on-line schooling, has a car and a job.

But he wasn’t always sixteen.

Once he was an adorable, sweet little boy.

Not that he isn’t adorable and sweet now but well, he’s sixteen!

Bobby is our final grandchild.

He was born at a time when both of his parent’s worked so he was a family affair.

My daughter Melissa and I weren’t working so between us, we cared for Bobby while his parent’s worked.

I had the morning shift.

My daughter Julie dropped him off on her way to work.

He was still sleepy and in his pj’s.

Scrambled eggs, (sometimes french toast) bacon, toast and a glass of water were waiting for him at the kitchen snack bar.

Not milk, unless I had chocolate and not juice.

He preferred water.

He’d hop up on the barstool and while he ate, we discussed what had been going on in his life during the past 24 hours since we’d last seen each other.

When his plate was empty, he’d carry his dish, glass & fork to the sink and every morning I’d hear in his sweet voice, “Thank you, momsmom, that was good.” 

Some mornings after breakfast he’d play on the floor with his pal LooLoo (our Labradoodle), before taking his shower and getting ready for school.

LooLoo loved Bobby and ran to the door each morning when her dog vibrations told her that he was near. 

Their bond was strong .

When he was younger, he’d lie on the floor with his arm around her and they’d nap together.

School was a 15 minute drive and story time.

“Tell me about my family” he’d ask as we’d pull out of the garage.

He’d listen intently, hung on to every word and laughed hard when I told him the tales of my four girls who were his 3 aunts and his mom.

His favorite hands down, was the story of the very first (and only) time Nini received a spanking.

(Nini was the name he gave to my daughter Melissa when he first began to talk.)

“Yep” I’d tell him,  “I sat on the porch steps, put her over my knee and spanked her.”

Oh how he loved that story.

Sometimes soon as I was done, he’d ask me to tell it again.

There were days when school would call and Bobby was sick.

I’d bring him home, wrap him up warm on the sofa and make him “magic chicken soup”.

Sometimes I took him to his doctor appointments.

At sixteen years old, he STILL remembers a time I’d hoped he’d long forgotten.

We were in Little White Car headed to his doctor, he had an ear ache.

He was sitting next to me in his car seat, a pre-schooler.

We were stopped at a red light.

I picked up my cell phone, called his mom and we exchanged a couple quick words and hung up.

I heard the motorcycle pulling up beside me.

My window was down.

 “Mam, that wasn’t a cell phone you were just on, was it?”

“Oh no, Officer. I was just itching my ear.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that.” 

The light turned green.

“Hope that itch doesn’t return while you’re driving.”

“Oh it won’t, Officer.”

And he was gone.

WHEW!

Bobby was quiet the entire rest of the ride.  

Not one word did he utter.

We arrived at his doctor’s office and I was lifting him from him car seat when he finally spoke. 

“Momsmom, I was very scared” he said in his sweet little voice.

“I thought we were going to jail.”

What Bobby said, left a bigger impact on me than any cell phone ticket ever could.

I’ve never forgotten his frightened face and words and I’ve never used my cell phone in the car since.

Every once in a while we also picked him up from school and brought him home until a parent arrived.

And we never EVER missed a school program.

(He always looked to make sure we were there.)

On school days off, or during the summer, his time was split between our house and Melissa’s.

She had the pool!

On the days he and I spent together, we played the day away.

We played BANK.

He was the banker and had all the money.

I was the borrower.

We played REAL ESTATE.

He sold the houses.

I bought them.

And we played VET.

He was the Vet.

I was the mother of the sick dog, played so well by LooLoo.

He’d give me a diagnosis, mediction and a bill.

Sometimes when I was writing at my desk, I’d pull up a table next to me and we’d quietly do our own thing side by side.

That’s when Bobby with paper, colored pens and scissors would make the play money used in the BANK, the REAL ESTATE and my wallet to pay the VET.

Anyone who’s a grandparent knows their grandkids get away with lots their own kids didn’t.

I had a little 2 seater convertible.

Bobby loved that car and named her, “Little White Car” for very obvious reasons.

He was a toddler when he first asked if he could take LooLoo for a ride in Little White Car.

He was a great pretender.

I gave him a ring of useless keys that I’d had forever, with no idea what they were for but too afraid to toss them knowing the next day I’d remember and need them.

Bobby and LooLoo would go into the garage and sit in Little White Car.

He’d pretend to drive and LooLoo pretended to love the ride.

Mr Lincoln, our Terrier would only go with them if Bobby baited him with yummers and as soon as they were gone, he jumped out the window. 

Done with the ride.

I kept the door open from the house to the garage so I could hear everything going on out there and I peeked on them often.

There they’d be, Bobby behind the wheel and LooLoo the passenger enjoying an imaginary ride.

A horrible thing to do, I know and I would NEVER EVER had let my kids play in a car but……well, it was Bobby.

He spent most of his summer days at Nini’s house, she had the big pool.

He loved the water and learned to swim like a little fish. 

We moved to Southern California when Bobby was nine years old.

It was a non-stop, 2 hour flight from Sacramento to San Diego.

Before long, Bobby was flying back and forth often and knew the ins and outs of the Sacramento and San Diego airports and Southwest Airlines.

He was without a doubt their most favorite passenger.

On one of his flights, he handed the Flight Attendant a thank you note he’d written for all the kindness and concern they always showed to him.

They read it over the loud speaker and the passengers on the plane that day applauded.

That was just Bobby!

He spent the summers with us in Carlsbad and divided his time between Melissa’s house and our condo but this time, WE had the pool.

(Melissa and Mark had moved to San Diego and we followed a year later.)

One afternoon he asked me to teach him how to dive.  

When the day was over, he was a champion diver.

We rode the train into San Diego and spent our summer days like SoCal tourists .

And the beach, the beautiful, beautiful Carlsbad beach.

When we were home, we didn’t miss a day down on the sand.

He made friends and played for hours in the waves.

He’d be blue and shivering and still not want to stop.

We took a few SoCal day trips.

The very first time he saw Newport Beach that was it.

He was either going to sell and own a yacht, or sell and own one of many ridiculously expensive cars he saw in the showroom windows along the highway.

The mind-blowing homes on the coast impressed him to the point that he was sure he’d own one some day.

I encouraged this idea and suggested he buy big.

Big enough to fit his entire family including a spot for his grandparents. 

In Carlsbad, he pointed out the homes he and Nini had already talked about and some day he’d buy one for her.

Three years later, we moved back to Sacramento.

Bobby’s parent’s schedules had changed and they only needed us to pick him up from school now and then.

He was growing away from us as it sadly happens, but still now and then he’d ask to spend the night and if just for an evening, we were again The Three Muskateers.

We’d eat dinner out and then  home to play board games until I couldn’t stand losing any longer.

One week-night he needed to spend the night with us as no one was going to be home at his house.

The next morning, Little White Car was already waiting for us, top down in the garage.

Bobby loved those top down drives.

We both hopped in.

It happened in a blink. 

We both saw it at the same time.

It was a very large, dark colored, furry spider dropping down from a web into the car betwen the two of us…..somewhere.

It must have calculated it’s jump from the rafters and aimed at a soft landing

We both saw it.

We both made the same squeeling noise.

And in one quick movement, we were both out of the car staring at each other.

And now what?

I had to get Bobby to school and there was a large spider lurking somewhere between  our two seats.

Absolutely NO WAY were either of us getting back in Little White Car with an extra, uninvited passenger.

I had an idea and I hated it but, desperate times call for desperate measures.

And there was absolutely no doubt that moment was a desperate time.

I grabbed the can of spider spray off the garage shelf.

I don’t like killing spiders, Black Widows being the exception.

I read Charlotte’s Web to my grandkids too many times.

And I never wanted to feel like I killed Charlotte.

I tried to assure Bobby and myself that this wasn’t Charlotte.

However at that point, I don’t think Bobby cared WHO it was, just get it out of the car.

I sprayed the entire front inside of Little White Car, the floors, under the seats, everywhere.

We waited 5 minutes, staring at the car the entire time.

I didn’t really expect the spider to come out with it’s hands up in surrender but that would have been nice.

In truth, no way could it have lived through the spray bombardment.

I convinced Bobby that it was safe to get back in.

I was only half convinced myself but, I had to show some bravery so I hopped back in.

Bobby was still on the outside lookin’ in and a bit apprehensive about the whole thing, not moving.

Now what?

I told him I was sure the spider was a goner but just in case, I handed him the can of spider sray and told him to grab the other can on the shelf for me.

We were both armed.

He held tight to the can, had his finger on the nozzle and was ready to shoot in a moment’s notice.

Never again did I let Little White Car sit in the garage too long with her top down.

Nope. top up, windows up, and hopefully spiders out.

Bobby drives now.

He passed his driving test with flying colors.

He showed me a copy of what the instructor wrote.

He got 100% and a written comment that she’d never tested any new driver who did so well.

Why was I not surprised?

He’s been “driving” in my garage since he was three years old.

I love you Bobby.

xxx