When I was a little girl, my grandpa would twirl me. It was always all of a sudden and spontaneous.
He would be in the middle of cooking, he would be listenig to some old standard on the radio or old country and singing. He would step away from his cooking, take a drink of his beer and grab my hand as I was running by and twirl me.
"Stop Grandpa." I would laugh. Which made him twirl me more, in the middle of the kitchen. I remember seeing the walls whirl by in their 70's color theme and rooster wallpaper. I remember smelling the food, smelling my grandpas beer breath as he laughed and sang to me. I remember seeing the fruit magnets float by me. I remember my grandma smiling but at the same time telling him not to tease me.
I would be embarassed but I knew, if I snuck up on him again, he would sneak up on me and twirl me again.
4 comments:
Girl....you been twirlin so long even Im dizzy....aeeeee. Jim.
The beer breath reminded me of my uncle who raised me. He always had a home-brewed ale after evening milking was done:)
Dana, I really miss your column in Lakota Times. Please tell me that you are continuing to write!
Bob
So where'd you?
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