Miriam asked me today if anyone in our family was sane. I was honest – I said no. We’re a crazy lot, who stem from odd family branches. I mean that in a good way. We’re not normal, the kids might as well know that now and embrace it. It makes for good storytelling at family gatherings.
My grandfather was a character and a storyteller. I loved listening to him tell us of his youthful escapades, and those of his family. But the one that I’m going to tell you now is one my grandmother would tell.
After the war (WWII), my grandparents were able to move into a two-flat (aka duplex). Their neighbors were my grandfather’s brother and his family, which consisted of a wife and two boys.
One day, my grandmother receives visitors – her two young nephews, who are upset. They’d been playing hide and seek with their father, and they couldn’t find him. It had been at least an hour that they were searching for him. My grandmother – who was a school teacher in trade and personality – worried that something had gone wrong. She knew her brother-in-law wouldn’t have left his two boys alone. So downstairs she went. She searched the flat and didn’t see her brother-in-law…until she entered the kitchen.
There, she found the boy’s father, crouched on top of the refrigerator, telling her “Shhhhhhhhh!”
Needless to say, he got a scolding for scaring his boys so thoroughly. But if he was anything like my grandfather, he was probably more disappointed that she ruined his great hiding spot.
This is the type of people my kids stem from. People who hide on top of refrigerators. Personally, I think it’s brilliant. But no one said I was all that sane either.