A Fall into the Creek

My ten-year-old grandson is off school for Thanksgiving, so he hung around with me today.  I went out into the country to help a friend with some trim in his house and Bennett had fun outdoors.  He found a creek at the bottom of the hill, which was great fun.  If it weren’t for that little minnow enticing him, everything would have been all right.  As it was, Bennett slipped into the cold water and came back up the hill freezing.  It was after 1 PM and we were hungry, and Bennett was cold and wet.  On the way to Chick fil-A, I stopped by thrift store to get him some dry clothes.  I found some Crocks, but no socks.  I grabbed a pair of jeans that looked about his size and checked out.  Bennett hunkered down in the truck jump seat and changed his pants.  But the jeans were too tight.  By then I was “hangry”.  I said, “Bennett, just zip them up, don’t button them, and pull your sweatshirt sown over the waist.  I got out of the truck in the parking lot and walked toward CfA.  Bennett’s pants were so tight that he couldn’t bend his knees.  So he rolled like a log over the back of the seat into the front seat and stiff-legged it behind me.  He sat down as best he could not even walking to the counter.  Bennett was so embarrassed that he had me to get the ketchup for him.  He said, “These jeans are so tight, I look like a girl!”  When we finished, he looked right and left, and when the coast was clear, Bennett shuffled straight-legged back to the truck.  I had to pick him up and put him into the truck.  Sounds like a good with Granddaddy.  Well, almost.