Her Mom, Ruth, planned the celebrations in two parts: a
braai [African-style barbecue] with the grandparents on the Saturday before her
Monday birthday, and a party with her peers on the Saturday following. The
braai would be at our home so she could enjoy riding her bicycle on our cement
driveway. At home their driveway is steep and she rides the bike in the garage
with the door closed.
She is so excited when they arrive at our house, and she takes
her Dad by the hand to show him where the braai is ready for the fire that will
cook the meat. She rides her bicycle some but the sun is so hot that she soon
turns to other activities. Such as serving cool drinks to the birthday guests
which now include her paternal grandparents and friends from Bulawayo in a surprise visit. She gets an
appreciative chuckle when she delivers a drink to Papa Jim with a curtsy and to
Papa Dhiru with a bow. Ruth said this comes out of the Sunday school lesson the
previous week.
Another couple also comes by unexpectedly; a young woman
from church with her brother who wanted to meet Pastor Jim. As you can see this
is turning into something quite a bit less intimate and Megan-centered than
planned. Which wasn’t too difficult a problem until time to depart. It has
become the custom for Megan to stay overnight on a Saturday with Granny Cathy.
It was not to be this time because of the guests.
At first, Granny Cathy thought of slipping away quietly
while Megan was in the bath. (Megan likes to bathe at our house because their
house on the high hill is notoriously short of water just about 23 hours of the
day.) But a few minutes of future promises mollified Megan, and she seemed
okay.
Carol, the guest’s wife, knowing of the broken promise but
not of the mended fence, reassures Megan that she would be leaving on Sunday
and so the next Saturday would be back to normal. She didn’t mean any harm as
she had been completely charmed by the little girl. Megan immediately went into
tragic mode with head bowed and tears on her cheeks..
Inside she sobs on her mother’s lap. “She’s my Granny Cathy!” Carol and Mitchell
were interlopers who should have no claim on her Granny! She folded her arms across her chest with an explosive humph and declared, “I am not happy!” Ruth
tries to soothe the little girl, saying that next Saturday would be so good
because Megan would have her Granny Cathy to herself. Now she would be bored
because the adults would want to talk and not have much time for her. This went
on several minutes and us maternal grandparents were helplessly caught between
sympathy and suppressed laughter.
Soon Megan’s Dad joins the fray, returning from the gate
where he had seen the folks out. Of course he knew the Saturday night ritual but
hadn’t heard any of the attempts to redeem the situation, including Ruth’s
reassurances. “Meggy,” he says in a quiet but firm voice. “Stop crying now. How
about if we stop by Granny’s on the way home, and you can say goodnight?”
Well, it was too little too late. The drama continued with
the bowed head, choking sobs and lament of my
Granny Cathy and even temporary dis-ownership with not my Granny Cathy and then my only Granny Cathy, the
folded arms unfolding to straight by her sides and the words, “I am not happy!”
So, what’s a little girl to do if the grownups in her life
can’t get their lines straight? If each one contradicts the compromise and
mending gone before? Megan definitely had the last words as, figuratively
speaking, she stamps her foot and says again, “I am not happy!”
But tomorrow is a new day and another Saturday is coming
soon, and everyone knows that nobody
better mess with the overnight stay this time!
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