He is slightly built. The possessor of a passionate personality he often thunders into conflict with his parents and with his siblings. He is a blond six-year old who still sucks two fingers and drags around a ragged blanket. His name is Cole Buxton, and he’s one of my grandsons. Last week as we visited his home, he brought out his checker board.
“Wanna play Checkers, Granny?”
“Sure, Cole.” He beat the socks off me.
Last year I wrote
about his skill, and how this (then) five-year-old was taking on the whole house in Checker challenges, and how he almost beat me at that time. They were at our home during this past Thanksgiving, and I could still beat him then. Now, a month later, the little whippersnapper has drastically improved his game…flat beat his granny.
My pride insists I say he didn’t beat me every game last week in San Diego. I sneaked by him a time or two.
My honesty compels me to tell you that once when I had finished my turn, Cole, laughing, fell to the floor, saying, “Oh, Granny, that was not a good move.”
“Cole, how about telling me some secrets of the game?” The last round was over and the board would be put away.
“Nope, not going to tell you,” he concluded.
He sat by me on the couch, grinning. Tucked under his arm was what passes for a blanket. Poked in his mouth were two tiny fingers.
My devotional blog is here.