A “date” with my 4-year old grandson, Henry…

One thing I absolutely, positively love about being retired is that I reserve Friday afternoons for “dates” with Audrey’s boys, William, Alex, Ben and Henry. I’ve been doing this for years.

It began with William, who was 3 at the time, and now 8 years old and in second grade.  He attended pre-school, where each Friday, swimming lessons were part of its curriculum.  After swimming lessons, I took William to our local Newport Creamery for a lunch and ice cream date.  Many times, we picked up my Mom, Grandma Rita, and took her along for the fun.

The following year, Alex attended the same pre-school with William; so each Friday, I had 2 handsome lunch dates.

The year after that, Alex and William were both still in pre-school, so the dates continued.

The following year, William entered Kindergarten, but Benjamin joined Alex at pre-school.  Each Friday afternoon, I took Alex and Ben on our special little dates.  By then, waitresses recognized us (but could never figure out how many boys there were, how old they were, or where they were coming from!).

Alex and Ben would be together in pre-school the following year, too, so the dates continued with them.

When Alex entered Kindergarten, Henry joined Ben at pre-school, swimming lessons and lunch dates. (Oh, by then the waitresses were, like, what!?)  And my Mom still came along as often as she could.

This year, Ben is in Kindergarten, so I have Henry on Friday dates all by himself.  Each Friday, when I see Henry on the pool deck, he giggles and asks, “Grandma, are we going to Newport Creamery today?”

I immediately answer (Henry is already laughing), “Hmmmm. Let me think about it for a second YES!”

Even the pre-school teachers, all the same wonderful women all these years, smile at Henry’s little protocol on swimming lesson days.

Last Friday, it was our date as usual.  Henry and I headed to Newport Creamery, sat at the counter, ordered his standard mac & cheese with french fries, chocolate milk and make-your-own Sundae… and we colored, laughed, talked…

… when I just happened to say, “Henry, I love our Friday dates!”

Henry stopped eating.  He looked at me like I had gummy worms crawling on my head and said, quite seriously, “Kids don’t go on dates.”

I knew he was serious.  I asked, “Well, who does go on dates?”

“Teenagers and grown-ups,” Henry answered.

“OK,” I said, “So what do you call coming to Newport Creamery with me?”

Henry thought deeply for a moment and answered, “This is a share.  We’re sharing. This is an ice-cream share.  Not a date.”

I get it.  A date with your Grandma, of all people, when you’re not even a teenager or a grown-up is certainly not a date.  It’s a share.

Yes.  I like it.  I get it.

All these years, I’ve been going on shares with my precious grandsons.

And I will never use, hear or say the word date again without being absolutely positive that it’s really not a share. There’s a difference, you know!

Henry is entering Kindergarten next year. I’m just wondering with whom I’ll be sharing Friday afternoons?