Candy Makes It Better

Charlie photographed by her Mommy, 8/20/12.


Last week Charlie was sick. Although her only symptom was a fever -- over 102 at times -- she wasn't able to come to Grammakate's for daycare. Instead, Mommy and Daddy took turns, rotating trips to their respective offices with staying home with Charlie. I understand that Charlie had one day when she felt lethargic and didn't eat much. That was Monday, the day her cheeks were flushed and she slept a lot.

The rest of the time, she was Charlie As Usual: Fun and funny, imaginative, adventurous, curious, conversational, fearless, contrary, confident -- totally lovable, of course. And completely happy to stay home with one of her adoring parents continuously at her beck and call.

Meanwhile, Grammakate had a quieter week, with only 15-month-old Teddy for entertainment. Of course, I'm not saying that total cuteness is not completely captivating, and that life without conflicts isn't pleasant. It is, and it is. But I think we were both a little bored.

Teddy, October 2012.


Seriously, other than having to feed and change him occasionally, Teddy is, when he's by himself, no more trouble than a large pocketbook -- and only a little heavier.

If Teddy wanted to cuddle, I was available. If he wanted to watch Elmo, we watched Elmo. If he pulled a toy from the big red basket, he was able to enjoy it until he couldn't enjoy it anymore. And although he has no problem making himself understood, Teddy's not much of a talker -- yet. That means he doesn't ask a lot of questions, and he's not constantly thinking of things to ask for. I put in a lot more sit-on-the-floor time than usual.

But we missed Charlie. At least I did. I should let Teddy speak for himself...whenever he's able.

Anyway, after Charlie's four days with her two favorite people in the universe, I knew that coming back to Grammakate was going to be difficult for her. And when something is difficult for Charlie, it's difficult for everyone who loves her. The child does everything at the top of her range, including crying for Mommy. After 15 minutes, which seemed like hours, of holding her as she sobbed and choked and begged me to take her to her mommy now, I was ready to throw in the towel and call Meagan.

Then I saw it -- the shabby ceramic mug that I had long ago painted to look like a pumpkin. Inside was a Jelly Belly mix of beautiful autumn colored candy -- including candy corn.

"Look, Charlie -- candy," I said, desperate to calm her before she before she became nothing more than a puddle of tears and snot.

Miraculously, she was quiet.

"Would you like to pick out a piece?"

Sniffing, she said she would. She tasted. She reached for the cup. (I willingly handed it over.)

Within minutes, Charlie, who had now become an imaginary puppy, was yipping happily and eating candy for breakfast.

I can't believe that I've become one of those grandmas who stoops to bribery, especially bribery involving candy corn, but there it is.

Candy really does make things better.