Five days of our most recent summer vacation were tending to the needs of one Henry Robert Lebzelter.
Henry, a New York state resident, is a mere five months old and still too immature to fend for himself while daughter-in-law Jessica attended classes for a few days. Somehow, I'm allowed to fend for myself, but that's another story.
When first born, we all oohed and awed when Henry simply opened his eyes. If he yawned, I felt compelled to informed everyone on Facebook of the momentous event.
In late July, wife Louise and I had the opportunity to get to know Henry without parents around.
Living three hours away and countless toll booths, we see Henry somewhat frequently, but not real frequently.
We arrived in Henryville on the night before our duties began. In the few weeks since we had seen him last, he transformed from being a baby to being a baby with a more distinct personality and preferences and likes and dislikes and his own unique sense of humor.
We found him seated at his activity center, playing with assorted stuffed animals, buttons that make sounds, keys and other materials that when slid over the gums relieve teething pain. We'd never seen him so engrossed in play, amusing himself.
So engrossed was he that when we came in and Louise said hello, he looked as startled as if he had seen a vampire. He screamed and had to be consoled by his mother. OK, it wasn't Louise who startled him. It was me. But in the grand scheme of things, what difference does it make?
Two minutes later, Henry was on my lap and we were playing and he was smiling. Henry can cover the entire emotional range from inconsolable sadness to pensiveness to outright, screeching happiness in about 15 seconds.
Within a few minutes we were best friends again.
If Henry's emotions can be measured in milliseconds, his progress can be measured in, well, something more than milliseconds.
The last we saw him, he was a bottle kind of guy. He still likes his bottle, but has been chowing down on rice cereal and we were treated that night to the introduction of squash to his menu. If you aren't a grandparent, let me tell you this is big. And if this is big, can you imagine a day or so later when parents aren't there and Louise and I introduced him to sweet potatoes? Forget Facebook on this one. Time to contact CNN.
Monday morning was big, too, because Grandma and Grandpa were on their own with First Grandson. Would he accept us? Would he let us into his world?
Yeah, no trouble. Henry wakes up each morning with unabashed joy. At 7:30 a.m., about 90 minutes before Grandpa's (am I really a grandfather?) usual wake-up, we are awakened to squeals and giggles from Henry R.
He can't contain his enthusiasm at greeting the day, his arms moving up and down, his legs riding an imaginary bicycle. (Have I mentioned before we have Henry's first bike in our family room, but it will take maybe another three years before he is ready for it?)
Jess saw to it we had Henry's car seat in our vehicle so we could take him about. With GPS in tow, I dreamed of taking him to the park and shopping the first day. But between feedings, bottles, mininaps and a 45-minute one-sided conversation in which I told Henry family stories and he listened, we were nowhere near ready to go anywhere when Jess came home about 3 p.m.
But a few days later when we discovered Henry had a keen interest in cell phones, we were forced to get organized and get to the store to buy him his own phone. We thought about Alltel and Sprint and Horizon but settled on Fisher-Price.
Louise decided he needed a truck too, but would you believe they were all for kids above the age of 1? He had to settle for a train until we got to another store to buy the truck.
We also amused ourselves and Henry by placing various items in the shopping cart with him and taking his picture, from a giant bra (which Grandma pulled before I got a decent pic) to the season second of "Desperate Housewives," the extra juicy edition, a wireless router, three of the "Friday the 13th" films in Blu-Ray and pajamas with an Office Depot logo on them. Is anyone that big of an Office Depot fan? After each photo, the items were dutifully returned to their rightful places in the store. Wonder what security thought?
We also took Henry to the park for some swinging and sliding and more smiles and squeals of laughter. Henry liked it, too.
Our days with Henry quickly came to an end. Jessica, not us, are hearing the gales of laughter and joy in the morning.
We must be content with the videos we shot of his every move and the 250 photos that have been added to our electric photo frame.
Besides the phone, the truck and the train, Louise found a new bib he wore during his subsequent visit to Ohio, a place he will discover some day where you don't have to pay to drive on I-90. The bib says "Whatever happens at Grandma's stays at Grandma's." Truer words, folks, truer words.
Lebzelter is special sections editor. E-mail him at bobleb@starbeacon.com. Read past columns at bobleb.blogspot.com.
