An Evening With Angels

By Douglas V. Gibbs

There are some things more important than politics. Daily writings on a political website takes a backseat when one is visited by two lovely angels. The angels I speak of are two of my grandchildren, Ezekiel and Alexya.

Little Alexya was born January 28, 2011 and is pictured above. Ezekiel is three years old as of last November, and is quite the rambunctious little guy. They are my son's children, whose wife has been aching to get out of the house. So, last night was date-night for them.

Christopher asked if I could watch his kids since my wife would be working on Saturday, and I told him as long is it was after 3 pm because I had to work, plus host two radio shows (which I did while driving my big rig and driving home by cell phone. . . busy, busy, busy). The time agreed upon was four, but they showed up at five, and didn't leave until after six.

So be it.

My son asked me, "Are you sure this is okay? One of the kids being an infant and all?"

It seems like yesterday that my 26 year old son, and twenty year old daughter, were babies. With Christopher I did not get to participate much in his early years because of the U.S. Navy, and the intense rehabilitation I was undergoing during following a near-fatal accident. With Courtney, however, since my wife worked evenings, much of the time it was I that woke up in the middle of the night to change her, feed her, burp her, and put her back to bed (usually by rocking her in the chair).

"Yes, Chris, I think I can handle it."

Alexya was asleep when they arrived, and Ezekiel immediately took to the play room. He is in that stage where he is beginning to use the restroom, so diapers are not as much of a concern, and he is pretty good at occupying himself (although Grandpa loves to get down on the floor and play with him). When Chris and his wife departed, however, suddenly Ezekiel was hungry, peed his pants, and Alexya woke up crying.

Ahh, the joys of children.

With Alexya in one hand wiggling like a glow-worm, and Ezekiel's hand in the other bouncing up and down because of his wet underpants, we went to the changing room and changed both diaper and pull-up, went back to the kitchen to make Ezekiel some soup and apple juice, and make Alexya a bottle, and then returned to the living room for the rousing feeding of the angels to begin.

Easy, peazy, lemon-squeezy.

I had forgotten how much time infants truly take from you. I was only able to join Founding Truth during the last half-hour of the radio show (poor Loki was unaware of what was happening), and I was never able to sit down at the computer to write articles, or put submissions to this site by other authors on Political Pistachio.

And I was happy about it. Angels, you must realize, outrank politics.

Though the enjoyment of spending this quality time with Alexya and Ezekiel (especially since up to this point my time with Alexya had been minimal) was an incredible experience, and I loved every moment of it. However, by 10:45 I was wiped out, and I was glad to hand the reins over to my wife.

She commented on the patience I had exhibited.

"These are my grandchildren," I responded.

Enough said.

Children try your patience. Grandchildren deserve your patience.

It is a good thing to be grandpa.

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