Some of you, who have been reading my blog for some time, may remember our very own superhero, Trashman, about whom I've blogged before (read HERE).
Whenever Clara came to visit us in Albuquerque, she was a little disturbed by Trashman's appearance. She always insisted he was "really Grandpa," and was perturbed that we claimed he was a superhero.
On Tuesday of this week, garbage day, I told Clara that Trashman hadn't moved from Albuquerque with us, so Grandpa has to collect the trash and move the can to the curb, himself, now.
This time, instead of strongly stating her case, as before, Clara looked at me with real concern in her face, and spoke gently and softly, "Grandma, you know it was really Grandpa, don't you?"
Clara: "You could tell by his face."
Grandma: "But he had a cape and everything."
Clara: "Grandma, it was just a garbage bag. You know that it was Grandpa, don't you?"
She may have convinced me.
3 weeks ago