I wrote this story awhile ago. My granddaughter will be six on the thirtieth of December and it still makes me chuckle thinking about it.
I realize my mistake that I made two years ago when I planted some sunflowers up on my hill. My granddaughter was three then, and when we drove up I had seen that they had eaten the flowers all the way down and so when we walked up there to survey the damage, I saw they had eaten some other flowers as well.
As we walked around the yard I couldn’t help but gett angry with them.
And these words left my mouth: “Damn deer!”
Little did I realize what a sponge she was. Her mother came shortly after us and Riah went running up to her and said, “Come and see this!” and led her to where the sunflowers were.
Her mother asked, “What happened to your flowers?” and before I could answer a little voice piped up, “It was those damn deer, they ate all Gramma’s flowers.”
Out of the corner of my eye I could see my daughter look my way, and I immediately changed the subject and pretended to look elsewhere thinking I could get out of it.
But no, this little girl had to take her mother around the yard by the hand and show her all the other flowers the “damn deer” ate.
When her mother asked her where she had heard them called “damn deer” she looked at me, then at her mother, and said, “I don’t know.” My daughter looked at me and I shrugged my shoulders in an “I don’t know” fashion.
This last fall, as the season ended, I put my flowers out for them.
When Riah came over with her mother we were walking around the yard she saw that they had eaten them again.
I tried telling her it was okay but she looked at me then at her mother and said, “Those naughty little deer ate the flowers again” which brought smiles to both our faces. But when her mother walked away she whispered, “Gramma, it was those damn deer, wasn’t it?”
All I could do was nod my head yes. Which reminded me of something I read which said, “The reason why grandparents and grandchildren get along so well, is because they have one common enemy.
So now I always try to watch what I say around her. Which leads me to her Christmas program.
A little boy took a marker of hers and wouldn’t give it back so she backed him into a corner and I heard, “You better give that back to me or my Gramma’s going to kick you’re a … ” He gave it back. When she came back I asked her, “What was going on over there?”
Here’s the answer I got: “Nothin.”
I told her, “I heard what you said to him,” and she held her marker up and said, “I got it,” with a great big smile.
Now at five years old she knows those damn deer are bucks, does and fawns, she knows how to count the points, she knows the bucks usually come out at night, she knows every name of the birds on the lake, the different fish, and how to tell who walked in the tracks the animals leave.
And now, we’re working on the different types of trees and flowers.
Even her mother is amazed at her sometimes and by how much she knows.
Now, if she would just learn that the song says, “B-I-N-G-O” and not “B-I-J-K-O”, but I’m not going to be the one to tell her.
It’s too cute to listen to her sing it this way.
