Since I posted a story about the littles (Or, as Gabriel calls them "The Joes"), I asked Gabriel's permission to post a story about him. First, I had to tell him the story. After he had recovered his breath enough to talk, he said that it was fine for me to post it, so long as I made it clear that he was 5 when this happened. So, please note that my child was 5 when the following occurred.
When Gabriel was 5, we lived in Maine. We lived with Gary's parents for 8 months. During that time, Gabriel went grocery shopping with Gary's mother, Memere, and Memere's father, Pepere J. Pepere J only needed a few items, and always finished before Memere did. As a result, he would wait on the benches at the front of the store while Memere finished her shopping. Apparently, Gabriel frequently cavorted back and forth between the two.
On this particular day, Pepere J was sitting on one of the benches watching Gabriel as he scampered around, getting drinks, talking, and generally having a good time. Now, behind the benches, there were photos of store employees. In front of the bench was a generously proportioned gentleman who decided to lean over the bench to peer more closely at the portraits.
As the scene played out, Gabriel availed himself of the water fountain. Then, he walked over to the large man leaning over the bench, and proceeded to spit the water down the pencil holder at the back of his pants. Apparently, the man never turned around. I don't know if Gabriel's mouth had warmed the water to body temperature, but I do know that the man must surely have noticed the water going down his behind.
We'll never know what the man, or Gabriel thought, because Pepere J thought it was funny, and didn't say anything until a couple weeks later. He didn't want Gabriel to get in trouble. That's what happens when you get a 90 year old man and a 5 year old boy together. They cause trouble.
When I told Gabriel this story, he said, "Why?" I have absolutely no answer for that. Little boys' brains do not work the way grown women's brains work. This is just one of those stories that will live forever in family lore.