Mr. Incredible

Nana and Papa rolled into town last week all the way from Soperton. Their arms were laden with home-baked goodies, 8th row Ranger tickets and some good old fashioned high fructose corn syrup disguised in various colorful packaging- TWO bags of it, I might add, one for Julia and one for Brighton. Of course. Much to my chagrin, in true "grandpa form", Papa took the privilege of divvying it out exactly as he pleased whenever he pleased. Literally minutes after their arrival, they got to “go fishing” in the bags of candy as Papa held them high. One at a time with grins as wide as a Milky Way, they squeezed their eyes shut, started digging and feeling around with their hands as their feet danced on the floor. On the first mystery dig, Julia pulled out a chocolate Moon Pie and Brighton pulled out grape Big League Chew and so the week went. Nerds, Sugar Babies, pacifier pops, rocket pops that lit up, Jolly Rancher chews and on and on and on. For the first few days, Julia was unashamedly stalking Papa after every meal. She wanted her sugar and she knew where to get it. Those of you who know me are loving this. I think I just went into denial. I stopped watching the whole process and acted like if I didn’t see it, it really wasn’t happening. Wednesday night, I was put out of my misery when I went to work, that is until Jeff called me with the candy report. Papa had saved the big guns for when I left the house. He gave them Pop Rocks (yes, the candy with a shaky reputation). My kids have barely had Coca Cola fizz in their mouths, much less the shock and awe of Pop Rocks. So here is the reaction. Papa shook some into Brighton’s open mouth and B just stood there wide eyed. When he could finally speak, he looked at my Daddy with a new reverence and said, “Papa…………..you’re incredible.”