Grandson uses babysitter's name

“Pam! Seet!” one-year-old grandson, Nicholas, commanded me as he patted the floor beside him. He had a book in his hand and wanted us to read it for the hundredth time.
We had arrived at our daughter’s house on Saturday. Four-year-old grandson, Jacob, was a bit shy at first but quickly warmed up to us. Nicholas took until the next day before he quit hiding behind his parent’s legs.
It wasn’t long after he decided we weren’t going away that he insisted on calling me by the babysitter’s name of “Pam” and ordering me around. We didn’t actually read his book, just flipped through the pages until we got to the last page. Nicholas would happily announce, “Cack, cack go night-night.” I would reply, “Yes, the duck is going night-night.” Nicholas would slam the book shut, smile his endearing smile and then we would “read” the book again.
After a couple of days we convinced him that I wasn’t Pam. Then I became Pawpaw. My husband was Poppa, said with a completely different inflection. On our last day there I became Pam again. I have no idea what he will call me the next time we go for a visit. I will answer to anything he chooses to say. It will be soon enough that I will be known as “Grandma far, far, away” to all the kids.
We picked up granddaughter Emma on Monday. Her dad had kept her out of school for the day. She curled up on the couch most of the next morning while the two little boys played. My daughter and her husband had required classes to attend. Emma came to life around noon, and all three kids went outside to play.
Emma and Jacob showed me how to climb a tree. I was afraid they would fall out and break a leg or arm, but they were fine. They stayed in that tree for almost a half hour and would still be there if I hadn’t told them to come down.
We had a quiet afternoon and Emma wilted visibly. The next day her mom took her to the doctor. Strep throat. Great. That’s contagious, so I don’t know if my hubby and I are going to get it or not. Emma alternated between shivering uncontrollably and burning up with fever. A couple days of antibiotics worked their magic, and she was much improved before we left on Saturday.
We went for walks down to the creek at Nicholas’ insistence. “Go walk! See water!” he would command, tugging on my hand. So all three children, the dog and I would walk down to the water. It was about a city block away from their front gate. As creeks go, this one was pretty pathetic. But it satisfied their desire to throw sticks into it in order to see who could make the biggest splash.
We also walked down to say hello to one of Emma’s friends who lived a couple houses past the creek. Nicholas discovered a culvert in another neighbor’s driveway. He could jump off the edge and not hurt himself. He considered this to be great fun, and when I had enough and wanted him to stop and come on, he ran. I was surprised at how fast those little legs could carry him and how hard it was to catch him.
One day we took a path down to the water’s edge. They caught algae and delighted in the fact that I think the stringy stuff is disgusting. They found a creature on a stick. Nobody knew what it was, and they were upset that I wouldn’t let them take it home.
We had a family gathering before we left. There were several birthdays to celebrate, plus Easter. I got to meet the real Pam and decided that we didn’t look alike at all. We had an egg hunt for the kids. In return some of the children put on a show for us. Emma sang her version of opera. Paige, my bonus granddaughter, did magic tricks. Nicholas drove his one-year-old cousin around in a child’s four-wheeler.
Their other grandfather, Pappy, provided water balloons with the expected result. We all got a bit damp. A good time was had by all.
We are back home now and waiting to see if we brought strep throat back with us. I’m going to miss all the commotion. I’m even going to miss being called Pam.[[In-content Ad]]