Grace: the making of an adventurous conversationalist who talks to people at the playground, B&N, and the library

I had the pleasure of lunching today with Grace Catherine Deming. Could anything be funner?

First lemme tell you why I brot BBQ chicken chunks as my lunch. While watching the PBS news last nite, I learned that a blight has hit Tart Cherry Trees in Michigan, the capital of the tart cherry trees.

Naturally it whetted my appetite for Cherry Pie. So when I went to the Giant, I searched for a single portion of cherry pie.

When there was none to be had, I asked myself what is it about the pie that you like? What quality in particular?

I began to think as I wheeled my cart from aisle to aisle. I like what it does inside my mouth - that gooey-ness. Yes, that's what I was after. So I searched for something gooey that would get all over my lips and chin.

Then I found it:  BBQ chicken. Prerequisite: no preservatives. I can't stand the taste.

That's why I brot it to Grace's where Mom-mom was sitting at table with her and Dan, who took the day off, was cleaning the house for the official b'day party tomro.

Grace was very happy to see me.

 She was in her high chair eating a melted cheese sandwich from Dunkin Donuts and a bowl of fresh fruit.

I asked her to name the fruits. One of em was "Yellow pine APPLE."

Have you ever thot of a pineapple as pineAPPLE?

Just two years old, she offered me some of her fruit.

"Bubby, eat blueberries," she said.

And Bubby did.

Grace was in a very talkative mood and desperately wanted to engage in conversation.

What does a 2-yo converse about?

Her tattoos, of course.

Showing me her right arm, she said, "Mommy gave me Thomas tattoo."

 Very nice! says I.

"Mommy washed off James tattoo in tub."

"Well, I'm sure you can get another one," I said hopefully.

We talked about her day with Mom-mom. Busy busy. "Everybody's Playground" in Horsham. Then Barnes & Noble storytime where she met a little boy her age named Aiden. A common name apparently. What movie starred a person named Aiden?

A 28-yo man named Brian I met eight years ago at All-Nite Deli, who was dying of a brain tumor, had a two-year-old named Aiden.

Count your blessings, Reader! I have diabetes but it's not frigging terminal.  The link is from one of the greatest of all blogs.

In her zeal to converse, Grace brot up her wonderful tattoo stories at least half a dozen times.

Meanwhile I was trying to teach her a few things. She had a brown Dunkin Donuts napkin and I tried to teach her the words Dunkin Donuts.

OH! I almost forgot the best thing I did teach her.

Yes, Virginia, I had many Madame Alexander Dolls when I was growing up. Sally was not one of them.
On Weds. I gave Grace a blond-haired doll which, to my delight, she was playing with. See, she's got about a million toys, so it could've easily gotten lost, but, lo, it's on her Playlist.

"What shall we name her?" I asked Grace.

Since I'm not with her very much, I don't know what she's capable of.

"How about if we call her Sally?" I said. "Can you say Sally?"

"Sally," said Grace, looking up at me.

When I was a kid growing up in Cleveland, my favorite doll was Sally. She was blond, had long black eyelashes, wore a beautiful dress and had tiny black shoes.

Sally.

I mentioned the name a few times and Grace understood. She got it.

"She remembers everything," said Barb Toohey, or "Mom-mom."

"She doesn't have any speech impediments," I said to Barb and Dan. Dan lisped as a kid but took speech lessons at Round Meadow and lost the lisp. Sarah also had difficulty with S and also corrected it at Round Meadow.

Ethan Iverson and expectant father Colin Fowler. Photo cribbed from Facebook. 

And now, gotta work on my Kidney Memoir. Am sitting by my whirring fan and listening to the jazz station.