A Saturday with my boy

Jackson was so excited about coming over on Saturday that Angy had a hard time getting him to bed Friday night. And why wouldn't he be excited? Jackson knew that pancakes, Axe body spray, and foot rubs were in store.

That hair, those lips!

Seated in one of the big booths in the middle of Denny's, the day was off to a good start. Again, we had a lovely waitress who paid special attention to Jackson. No matter that she got our order wrong and was slow to refill my cup. Her attitude toward my grandson is what garnered her a 30% tip.

Jackson had his usual pancakes and orange soda. I had my usual pancakes, bacon, and coffee. Although I considered getting a waffle instead, when I asked Jackson if I should, he shook his head.

Here's how much of the rest of our breakfast conversation went:

"Are your pancakes good?"
"Yeah!"
"After breakfast, we'll go to Walmart."
"Yeah!"
"And remember, you're getting only two cans of Axe."
"Three."
"No, two."
<Solemn stare>
"And then we'll go to my house."
<Big smile>
"Yeah! Nana's house."
<Long pause>
"Are you excited about football season?"
"Yeah!"
"Are you gonna watch the Texans play tonight?"
"Yeah!"
<Long pause>
"I love you, Jack."
"Yeah!"
"I'm so glad we get to spend the day together."
"Yeah!"

You've gotta love the boy's enthusiasm.

When the only thing left on my plate was the excess syrup, I wiped my hands on the condensation from my water glass, rubbed my hands together, and dried them with my napkin. Jackson watched closely. So I explained what is probably the redneck way to clean your hands after a meal. He then did it like a pro and, judging by his expression, thought it was pretty cool. How could I have missed teaching him this valuable lesson before now?

At Walmart, Jackson leads; I follow. He went straight for the deodorant aisle and selected two twin packs of Axe. "Two," he said. Good try, buddy.

I pointed out that there were actually four cans in two twin packs and specified that he could get either one twin pack or two individual cans. (He's already got dozens of cans of his current obsession.) Several minutes of tough negotiations followed.

Jackson finally walked away with two cans. And I strutted behind with the sound of Tom Petty's voice in my head. I will stand. My. Ground ... And I won't. Back. Down. (You know that's how he sings it, right?)

Like a man on a mission, Jackson plowed ahead to a display of travel-sized toiletries in the main aisle. Immediately zeroing in on a particular bin of assorted items, he shoved his hands in and pulled out two small cans of Axe from beneath the pile. How'd he know they were in there? It's like he's got a sixth sense about smelly stuff.

"Alright, you can get those," I sighed, thinking that at least they were just a buck apiece. Turns out they were $2 each. When I realized that Jackson ended up with the equivalent of three cans, Tom Petty stopped singing. All I heard was a "still small voice" (as King James put it). Pride goeth before destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.

As we drove to my house, Jackson reached over and clasped my hand, intertwining our fingers. I love it when he does that. And it's a good thing I can drive just fine with one hand because there's no way I'm letting go of his.

Settled in front of my big new monitor with his Axe and an orange soda, Jackson played video games, listened to music, and checked out the full range of scents available for his next purchase of Axe. But most of the time, he played with airplane flight simulators. For years Jackson has been studying control panels and practicing to be a pilot. I have no doubt that if you put that boy in a cockpit, he'd know exactly what to do.

Jackson's a fan of repetition, and he usually had "Thinkin' Things" song loops playing in the background. But I liked it better when he'd switch to Animusic – Cathedral Pictures.

I sat beside him most of the day, doing things like reading, playing on my phone, and filing my nails. That was in between the many times that Jackson would throw his leg in my lap, point to his socked foot, and hand me a can of Axe so I would massage his foot with it.

Since I never take Jackson home anymore (as explained in the second half of my June 2012 post), Darrell came by to get him after work. Angy said that when Jackson got home, he sought her out to tell her about his day.

What did he say? Nothing. Just waved his hands excitedly, made happy noises, and grinned like he was about to burst.

I know exactly what you mean, buddy. I had a great time too.