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Tricycle, Classic Books Wow The Grandchildren

The sweet little granddaughter is in town this week, a visit I have trained for during the past month — jumping and dancing and exercising to build my stamina to play with a very lively 2-year-old.
Last time, I nearly passed out with exhaustion.
“Jumping jacks, Papa?” she would ask sweetly. So I had to do it. Over and over and over.
This time I was ready for the Energizer Bunny.
Her Uncle Michael contributed his musical birthday card from last year, a giant singing card that plays “Celebration” by Kool and the Gang. The battery is still good.
We jumped and danced and sang to “Celebration” Sunday night maybe 10 times before I switched to something only slightly slower: Lady Gaga’s “Just Dance.”
Then we crooned and waltzed to “The Lion Sleeps Tonight.”
It was a fine time.
We read books, pulling out the well-worn favorites that I once read to her father and uncles. Both Cayden and her cousin Whit, 3, are great fans of  the old classic “Little Black, A Pony” by Walter Farley. We also read “Madeline” and “Harry the Dirty Dog” and more. Those old books are raising a new generation.
Elizabeth and I have been stocking the house for grandparenthood. We have a wooden train track network that keeps the children occupied. They are fascinated with Michael’s old toys and action figures — Batman and Star Wars and countless other figures like nothing they have at their homes …