Who would have thought that becoming a grandparent would have such a profound affect on one's perspective of what is really important in life? A prime example of the paradigm shift I am observing happened just yesterday.
First, a casual comment by Mrs. WingMaster somehow turned into an excuse to brave 60 miles of freeway in 50 deg weather just to see our newest grandson, Brayden. The comment was, "We really ought to get in another motorcycle ride before the weather gets too nasty." Great! I start looking for the opportunity. When one presents itself (a Sunday with no rain in the forecast), I suggest a possible destination. The answer comes back,"If I'm gonna' get on that bike and freeze my anterior off, I wanna' see my grandson!" OK, a "win-win" situation for both of us. We don the leather and head north.
We arrive about an hour-&-a-half later to snuggle our youngest bundle of joy who is a little less than joyful due to the fact that he hasn't had a bowel movement in over 3 DAYS! I must admit that I would be a little cranky, too if I were him.
Needless-to-say, the rest of the visit is spent coaxing Brayden to "Fill that diaper" so he would feel better, but to no avail. Even the maternal grandparents are on alert and call in periodically to get a "regularity report" on the poor little guy.
Several fussy hours later after a feeding session, the air is split by the sound we have all been waiting for. A "hush" falls over the room as all eyes turn toward the source of the sound. Could it be? Has the spell been broken?
Praise be to God! Brayden has cut loose with the diaper from H#$%! Not once, but TWICE! High-fives, congratulations and squeals of joy break forth to commemorate the blessed event. Mom & Grandma spring into action like a couple of highly trained EMT's at a car-accident scene. Changing pads and diaper wipes were flying around like bandages and stethescopes and Dad (no lie) gets out his high-tech cell phone and takes pictures of the fouled disposable seat-cover (diaper) so he can forward them to the anxious grandparents who have been waiting on pins-and-needles for news from the nether-regions.
Finally, the boy is happy! He's smiling and cooing at everyone and the relief on his face is obvious to all.
I can't remember the last time a dirty diaper garnered so much attention and celebration. That kind of anticipation and merriment used to be reserved for sporting events and Presidential Elections.
Honestly, I haven't seen that much excitement since the Seahawks made it to the Superbowl.
My, how things change.