Kids say the darndest things!

copyright 2012 Catherine Coyle Murphy

“Pee Paw lets us do a-a-anything we want,” my nieces, Amy and Katie used to say of their beloved grandfather. “He even lets us walk on the kitchen counters.”

My husband and I are now grandparents of four. We have a step-grandson, “Mason,” who is 16; a grandson, “Dante,” 8; a granddaughter, “Kelli,” 6; and the youngest grandson is “Zane,” 4.

Dante and Kelli are the result of our daughter’s first marriage. Zane makes up the “ours” in the “his, hers, and ours” of our daughter’s second marriage.

Grandkids certainly add a good dose of humor to our lives with their own special way of expressing themselves. As the saying goes, kids say the darndest things.

Once when the kids were visiting us, we headed outdoors for a walk.

“Don’t you want to wear your shoes?” I asked Dante.

“No,” he replied matter-of-factly. “I just want to wear my feet.”

For a time before her second marriage, our daughter and her two children lived with us. In the evenings, Dante and I would sit out on the yard swing and look at the moon and stars. As a result, he began to call me “Moony.”

The name stuck, and we are now affectionately known as Moony and Papa to all of our grandchildren, including Mason.

As a friend of mine likes to say, kids have no filters. They tell it as they see it.

One time I was babysitting the kids when Dante was about three, and he was watching one of his children’s programs on television when a grandmother character appeared on the screen.

It was the stereotypical grandma, gray hair pulled back in a bun, Ben Franklin glasses, a dress tied at the waist with plumpness issuing above and below the belt.

Thinking he was giving me the utmost of compliments, Dante called out, “Look! A grandma! It looks just like you, Moony!”

Another sweet aspect of having grandchildren is the affection they so freely give.

A few years ago, Dante’s parents decided he could no longer watch Papa play his “Guild Wars” game on the computer because of the violent component.

While babysitting the kids some time after that, my grandson climbed on my lap as I sat on the couch, smothering me with kisses.

“I love you, Moonie,” he crooned. “You’re the best grandma.”

More kisses.

“How sweet,” I thought. Until I noticed between his expressions of endearment, his neck would repeatedly stretch up over my shoulder.

Papa was playing Guild Wars. And the computer desk sat directly behind the couch.

I used to wonder at times if I might want our grandkids to be able to say, “Moonie let’s us do a-a-anything we want,” just like my nieces used to say about their Pee Paw. But a little episode with our granddaughter some time ago gave me second thoughts.

The family visited us once during Kelli’s potty training stage. Wearing a little sundress, she stepped out of a wet diaper and continued on to play.

“Kelli,” her mom called out. “Come here so I can put a dry diaper on you.”

“No,” she replied matter-of-factly. “I just want to wear my butt.”