Parenting 104, or "How to Make Old People Crazy"

There's a great scene at the end of Moonstruck when the family is sitting around, waiting for Cher's fiance to come back from Sicily so she can tell him she's marrying his brother instead. It's awkward, and the elderly grandfather looks around at everyone silently eating their breakfast and says, "someone tell a joke." (I looked for the scene on Youtube but could only find it dubbed in German. If you speak German, enjoy.)

Anyway, looking over my recent posts, I'm feeling like a little levity is in order.

The truth is, the week in Detroit wasn't all gloom and doom. In fact, it wasn't even mostly gloom and doom. As cheesy as it sounds, we really did try to make the occasion a celebration of my grandma's life.

After the funeral, we didn't do a formal shiva at my grandpa's house, but we did have an open house for people to come and have some deli and pay their respects. At one point, Zeke and I were hanging out outside on the back stoop with my cousin Emily and her baby, my brother Josh and his daughter Hazel, and Emily's mom and grandma, Bonnie and Elaine (Emily's dad is my mom's brother, so I'm not related by blood to her mom or maternal grandma).

On the back porch was a cooler full of beer, plus some empty bottles that people had left lying around. The porch itself is an old wooden deck that probably hasn't been waterproofed or otherwise treated in the entire 27 years my grandparents have lived there.

Now, if pressed, I guess I would describe my parenting style as "relaxed." I protect Zeke from true dangers, but I don't freak out at every opportunity he might have for bumping his head on the edge of a table, nor do I worry about every little thing he puts in his mouth, as long as it isn't broken glass or sharp metal or poisonous. A bit of dirt isn't going to kill him. Exposure to germs will enhance his immune system. If he bumps something, it might teach him to avoid it next time.

Elaine, Emily's grandmother, is decidedly not relaxed, about parenting or anything else. She's probably one of the most frenetic people I've ever met, and when it comes to babies, her philosophy is that they must be protected from everything from splinters (so no crawling on wooden porches) to germs (no chewing on Mommy's unsterilized keys, no matter how enticing) to falling (if they get within 5 feet from the edge of anything, snatch them up at once).

So of course, she was going apoplectic at the fact that Zeke was crawling around barefoot (the prospect of splinters and catching pneumonia). Her level of apoplexy went up when he started mouthing a beer bottle. I assured her that I had emptied it and that it wouldn't do him any harm, but she didn't seem assuaged.

(Zeke enjoys a bottle of Bass. The kid's got good taste.)

Then she went really nuts.

"SHE'S GOT SOMETHING IN HER MOUTH!!!" she yelled, pointing at Hazel.

Hazel was sitting on the step with Josh. Josh is on his third kid, and is even more laid back than I am.

"Her father's right there," I said. "She's fine."

"HE WASN'T PAYING ATTENTION! THERE'S SOMETHING IN HER MOUTH!"

"I know there is something in her mouth," Josh said.

"WHAT!?! WHAT IS IT???"

He rolled his eyes and exhaled loudly, clearly exasperated by all the hysteria.

"It's a beer bottle cap. Don't worry, I'm watching her."

I think Elaine may still be in orbit.

And I have an increased respect for my brother's sense of comic timing, as well as an uncontrollable case of the giggles from thinking about it.

(Josh holding Hazel, who expresses her opinion about people freaking out about eating beer bottle caps)