The little boy was dressed in Grandpa’s lucky hat, his suit, way big, and shoes, way long and wide.
The little girl was dressed in Grandma’s frills. The dress dragged on the floor as if the girl were a queen at a royal wedding. Swimming on her feet were slippers five sizes too big.
The children were playing groan-up.
“Oooh, my aching back,” the boy said as he stood up from the EZ chair.
“My fingers hurt,” the girl said as she rubbed the boy’s back.
“My knees are killing me,” the boy said.
The girl rubbed her neck. “It’s stiff as a board,” she said.
“I can’t believe we’re grandparents already,” the boy said. “Time flew by so fast.”
“Yeah, it’s hell to get old,” the girl said.
The boy giggled. “You said hell,” he said. Then, he looked the girl up and down. “There’s lots of mileage on the old jalopy,” he said.
“You talking about me?” the girl demanded.
The boy quickly changed the subject. “Remember when we walked uphill two miles to school in 40 below temperatures?”
“Yeah, it was always blizzarding back then,” the girl said. “Even in summer. Kids today don’t know how good they have it.”
The boy rubbed his tummy. “Remember when we had to eat cow tongue for supper and liver soup for lunch?”
“Yuck,” the girl said. “Yuck, yuck, yuck.”
“Maybe we should boil some hotdogs for the grandkids,” the boy said. “Or make them mac and cheese.”
“With candy bars for dessert,” the girl said. “Spoil ’em rotten.”
They hobbled their way to the kitchen, the boy dragging his pants behind him and the girls’ feet getting lost in the slippers.
“Do you know how to turn on the stove?” the girl asked.
“No, never had to in 40 years,” the boy said with a huff.
“You’re lucky you didn’t starve,” the girl said.
The boy looked around the kitchen. “Now where did I leave my glasses?” he asked.
“Now where did I leave mine?” the girl said.
The pair hobbled back to the living room and began searching the EZ chair and couch.
“What’s this?” the boy said. “I can’t find my glasses, but I did find four remotes under the couch.”
“Why did I come into this room?” the girl asked. “What was I going to say?”
“Good thing we’ve been married 40 years, so I can finish all your sentences,” the boy said, adjusting his lucky hat.
“Why are you wearing that ugly thing in the house?” the girl said. “If I didn’t label your shirts, you’d wear them backwards.”
“I was looking for my phone,” the boy said.
“No, you weren’t,” the girl said. “You were looking for the cat.”
“Whatever,” the boy said. “It’s hell getting old.”
The girl giggled. “You said hell.”
The kids made exaggerated winks at each other, throwing their whole bodies into the effort.
“Holy mackerel, show some gumption,” the girl said. “And quit your lollygagging.”
“Okee-dokee,” the boy said, tugging up his pants. “My britches keep falling down. Maybe if you fed me once in a while I could keep some meat on my bones.”
The girl had an idea. “Let’s play Sunday driver,” she suggested.
The kids sat on the couch and pretended they were in a car.
The boy was driving. “Maniac,” he yelled, as an imaginary car passed him.
“Who’s the idiot driving 35 in the fast lane?” the girl hollered.
The drive ended with the car skidding to a stop in the “garage.”
“Who’s the kid in the backseat?” he asked, gesturing with his thumb at a cat sitting on the back of the couch.
“It’s our grandson,” the girl said.
“Looks like the cat to me,” the boy said.
The boy and girl got out of the car, groaning.
“You see all this stuff piled to the rafters?” the boy said to Grandson the Cat. “Someday, all this will be yours.”
“One man’s trash is another’s treasure,” the girl said.
The cat, having none of it, ran and hid behind a pile of old photo albums in the corner of the room.
The boy picked up an album and began flipping pages.
“Those were the days,” the boy said. “Blink once and you’re 65. Blink twice and you’re 80.”
The girl turned the page.
“Yeah, time flies. My fingers are killing me.”
The boy grabbed the album and set it down on the cat’s tail. Grandson the Cat yowled.
“Oooh, my aching back,” the boy said. “Let’s go find mom and see about that mac and cheese.”