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Grandpa Grubbs

There's an ongoing joke in our house about a nickname that I can't seem to live down. Whenever I'm near my blue recliner, Matt calls me Grandpa Grubbs and asks what Grandpa Grubbs is about to do. Usually, Grandpa Grubbs gets a book to read and a blanket so Victory's always-shedding hair doesn't get everywhere.

This often results in a nap. Just like how a grandfather would be.

I take zero offense to this nickname. A mutual work friend brought it up last December as we decorated the Christmas tree. With Victory by my side and slippers on my feet, the only thing missing was a pipe and a hearing aide.

As much as I claim to be an old soul, I merely do this because of practical reasons more than anything else. Victory is a very clingy dog and tends to get antsy is she's gone too long without certain kinds of attention. Her lying in my lap usually calms her down. Plus my recliner is very comfortable to read in and I usually fall asleep in it after a while. (I should mention my grandfather had this recliner until he passed away.)

Lately, I've been trying to listen to records on the turntable and fall asleep. I had done this in college as a way to keep tumult in my life at bay. It's nice to drift to sleep hearing something like Sigur Ros and waking up to silence or more Sigur Ros. It's a peaceful feeling.

All I know is, I might act like grandpa for a couple hours a day, but the rest of the day is a delicate balancing act between a youthful attitude and having something of an adult life. And I'm happy with that.


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