Father's Daze

Whether I was ready to or not, it was time for me to solo last weekend.

Solo grandparenting, that is.

It might not be considered by some to be as hazardous or dangerous as soloing in an airplane pilot’s seat, or behind the wheel of a racecar, but it’s no walk in the park, either.

Actually, for Aiden and I, it was more like a walk up and down the block — several times, to be precise.

Aiden’s parents had their monthly Army Reserve meeting over the weekend and it was Terry’s annual Women’s Wild Weekend at church camp, so it was down to me to have a Grandfather’s Wild Weekend with Aiden.

I picked him up at his parent’s house Friday after work, which is much easier to do now that they live about two hours closer than they used to. They moved across the state a week earlier after Alex got a new job on this side of the state — and you can refer to last week’s column if you don’t remember how that week of taking care of Aiden went.

That wound up being a week and a half, but at least we outnumbered Aiden by two grandparents to one toddler — which, despite the simple arithmetic of it, might have been more on the other side of even numbers, all things considered.

But fools rush in, as the saying goes, so Aiden came home with me Friday to begin 48 hours or so oneon one with his grandfather.

He stayed awake until we got home, which happened to be right around his bedtime, so I went to get him ready for bed — and discovered that his parents had forgotten to pack his sleepers in his bag.

Since any sleepwear I had in the house is probably big enough to serve him as a sleeping bag — or at least a bed sheet — he went to sleep that night in his jeans and shirt.

He slept well enough, but our first order of business Saturday morning was to go out and buy him something to sleep in Saturday night.

That was, after we had breakfast, which is probably the point where he figured out that he was stuck with grandfather for the weekend and not his grandmother.

That’s because his grandmother — the one with the cooking degree — takes great delight in making Aiden waffles or pancakes, bacon, toast, fresh fruit and all kinds of things for breakfast.

For his grandfather, on the other hand, breakfast is usually something grabbed on the run, if it’s grabbed at all. So, on this occasion, Aiden had to settle for a bowl of Cheerios and a banana — but at least I peeled the banana and broke it up into bite-size pieces for him.

It didn’t seem to faze him, though, and after he finished, I loaded him up in the car and we headed to the store.

I found him a nice set of pajamas that perhaps will end up serving a double purpose as well.

His mother, Julia, is a Chicago Bears fan. Other than that, she’s really a wonderful person, but then all of us have some character flaw — nobody’s perfect.

That’s why I made sure to find a pair of Green Bay Packers pajamas for Aiden. To top it off, I bought him a Packer sweatshirt as well, which he wore when we took him home Sunday and gave him back to his mother.

The way I look at it, from here on out Julia will definitely remember to pack some sleepers for Aiden whenever he goes to grandma and grandpa’s — otherwise she’ll run the risk of him coming home with more Packer sleepwear.

We stopped at a fast food place for lunch after we finished shopping — we also got some groceries, including some fruit and snacks for Aiden.

He really enjoys the fast food place that’s known for its arches — not necessarily because of the food or the ambience, but because the children’s playland area is right next to the drive-through lane, so he can watch all the cars and trucks go by while he’s eating.

He doesn’t have an extensive vocabulary yet, but “car” is one word he knows real well, and repeats constantly — every time one passes, it seems.

After lunch and his nap, I decided it was a nice enough day we could go for a walk. We went up and down the block three times, but when we finished the third lap, he didn’t head in the house. Instead, he went over to the car and climbed into his car seat.

Apparently, he has already figured out that if he can get grandma or grandpa to take him to the store, we’ll wind up buying something for him. And I’ll be darned if he isn’t right.

Since he had his mind made up, we went to the department store and I got him a set of toy cars to play with.

I figured I owed him that after putting him through the trauma of his first car wash before we went to the store.

He was a little unsettled when the door closed and the hoses started spraying the car with soap, but I was able to talk him through it and at least keep him from screaming or crying until we got out.

Actually, I’m happy to say that the car wash was about the most traumatic experience of the whole weekend for either one of us.

After that, who knows what I’m ready to solo at next?