A couple of Sundays ago, my brother and I took his granddaughters to Wrigley Field. Eliza is almost six and Susannah almost four. One’s a blonde- Suze. And the other’s a brunette- Eliza.
And they both know everything.
(Of course.)
My first hint that I was in four tiny capable hands came as Kenny and I walked them out from their back yard onto busy Clark Street. It was a beautiful summer-like afternoon. (A day we get in Colorado all the time- blue sky, slight breeze, no humidity, temperate, sunny, perfect- and we get in Chicago three times a year.)
Our plan was to grab a cab or a bus- which ever came first- from the girls’ house to Wrigley.
“Where’s the bus stop?” wondered Kenny out loud looking up and down Clark Street.
“Right here, GK!” (“Grandpa Kenny” for you newbies) said Eliza. And sure enough, she knew exactly where the bus stop was.
(Of course.)
But at that moment, a cab pulled up and we piled in.
But not before Suzie had some input.
“Auntie Ellen, I want the window seat. And a seat belt.”
(Of course.)
Done and done.
When we got to the park, the crowds were streaming in. A multitude of humanity seem to converge from everywhere into the entrance.
I was a little disoriented. I hadn’t been to see the Cubs play in a couple of years (I’m no masochist) and so I hesitated and glanced around to get my bearings.
No need for that.
The girls had built-in miniature GPS’s.
“This way, Aunt Ellen,” they said as they boldly tugged me into the sea of people- all much taller than they were.
They knew exactly where Kenny’s seats were, too.
(Of course.)
Now it was time to get down to business.
“GK, I want peanuts,” said Eliza.
“Before your hot dog?” clarified GK.
“Oh, yes.”
“And I want my pop- and a pretzel too,” chimed in Blondie.
(Of course.)
Sustenance was provided, and the girls settled in to their familiar routine. Eliza had considerately brought along a tote filled to the brim with everything one would possibly need at a Cubs game. (Except a stud closer.)
She had a coloring book, a notebook, pens, pencils, markers, sunscreen, all sorts of arts and crafts to keep Aunt Ellen busy if she got bored.
The two guys behind us were a real plus, too. Teachers, both. One of them taught the girls how to keep a box score. The other one filled me in on the novelty giveaways the Cubs organization was handing out on Sundays.
These were decade-themed, and today’s giveaway was an old-fashioned three D slide viewer and great photographs of the Cubs and the ball park. It was nifty.
(Memo to GK: I want to go back for the etch-a sketch giveaway.)
Somewhere before the seventh inning stretch, Susannah announced that it was time for her pretzel. Gk and she then took off to buy one- along with Eliza’s hot dog.
No sooner had they left the seats than Eliza had an announcement.
“Aunt Ellen, I have to go to the bathroom.”
(Of course.)
But I wan’t the least bit worried. By now, I was an old pro at this baby-sitting business.
“Do you know where it is, Eliza? Can you show me or should I ask someone?”
“I know where it is,” was her answer.
(Of course.)
And in a flash, I was following her as she darted confidently through the multitude on her way to the ladies’ room.
Kenny- trapped in the hot dog line- spotted us.
“Where are you going?” he called over the crowd.
“To the bathroom. But don’t worry, Eliza knows where it is,” I called back.
She also knew exactly what she wanted for her upcoming birthday, too.
Cubs’ earrings to go in her newly-pierced ears.
Me: Do they make those?
Her: Oh yes.
(Of course.)
I bought them the next day at the Cubs’ Store in Water Tower.
On the way out of the park, by now Susannah knew enough to hold my hand. She didn’t want me getting lost.
She also reminded me to wait on the sidewalk for the bus and not to go in the street.
(Of course.)
So Ashlee, I’m writing this to say thank you. I had a swell time at the game.
And can Eliza and Susannah come over next weekend to baby-sit?
Tell them I’ll be good, and I promise to go to bed early.
(Of course.)
Always fun at the ball game with the girls. Hopefully I will be able to take them to a World Series game soon!! GK
By that time baby Delia will be able to come along. (If she’s not too busy watching her own children.)
You can take them to one at the Cell Kenny! 2, maybe 3 years….’bout half the time Theo has been promising big things to come.
Nice one, Gary. The ghost of Bill Veeck would approve.
How true. Dad gave it 93 1/2 years and didn’t see one.
Too true, bro.
How funny, Debbi and and I are taking our Atlanta grandkids to tonight’s Cubs-Mets game. The difference between what Nanni Debbi puts in her tote(blueberries, apples,cheese sticks) and what is actually consumed at the game are completely different things. Though living in Atlanta they have been cursed with the Cubs gene. But truth be told, they are Braves fans too and have been seen doing that awful tomahawk chop. My family goes way way back with the Cubbies. My Dad’s father was a soda vendor at the old West Side ball park circa 1910 and my Mother’s father had his big band play in the grandstands behind home plate during the 40’s. First game he ever saw was when he played there. True story, I was listening to a game on TV and good old Harry was reminiscing about the old days when he said ” I remember when the Lew Diamond Band use to play behind home plate”. You could have picked me up off the floor. I had never heard this before.
Very nice commenting, Mitch. I give you a home run. Nice tie-ins, good nostalgia and a strong slide into home plate. Alright!
let’s play 2!
Very nice!
When Emily was about 5 years old we took her down to see the Christmas lights on Michigan Avenue. While having lunch in the courtyard at the Ritz Carlton Emily said she had to go to the bathroom. I said I’ll ask someone where it is to which she quickly replied she knows where it is.
I knew there and then that if my 5 year old North Shore daughter already knew where the bathroom was at this fancy downtown hotel – I was headed for a lot of a shopping bills to come. Sure called that one right!!
Has she found her way to the H word yet?
Makes me smile, as usual.
Yer saaaafe!
I just heard on the sports news that Pete Rose bought an apartment building across from Wrigley……
He wanted to get as far away from baseball as possible!!
Nice or harsh, depending on Cubs pov.
Ellen all fixed now.
That sounds vaguely ominous- but I know you’re referring to that wonky email address. Thanks, Mitch.
Love this. And they are yours any time you want them, Ellen!!
Deal. I hope they agree. Let them discuss it. Love, Aunt Ellen
Ellen,loved every word of it. Mitchell was surprised to hear that we correspond via the blog. Somewhere I have a picture of his grandfather leading the band at Wrigley while his eyes are only looking at the game. Prior to that gig, my father-in-law had never seen a professional ball game. What a life. Allan
Glad you approved. And yes, it’s a small (blog) world. You just remind him that you’re a member of the Elba Hall Of Fame and he’s still a rookie. (But good commenting does run in the family.)