An Early Fourth

A visit from my grandson includes hitting off a tee in our backyard, Clare constantly working on Leo’s stance. Whatever she said late yesterday afternoon led to a stinging line drive into Grandpa’s stomach. I have to remind myself to stand further back next time. A visit from my grandson also includes playing with trucks big and small; right now he prefers the small one, Tootsie Toys, a Chicago precursor to Hot Wheels. If you wanted a semi or a cement mixer back in the day, you went to an Ace Hardware, Woolworth’s or drug store with a good toy aisle. Since it was hot and humid and our attic isn’t air-conditioned, we brought a bunch of trucks downstairs into the living room to play with. Of course, the TV was on to the White Sox-Guardians’ game, so we actually saw Martin Maldonado hit a two-run homerun; I liked Leo’s hit more. As for my grandson, all he wanted to do was crash his dump truck into Grandpa’s. Berwyn did fireworks a day early, though late for any self-respecting, almost three-year old. The Sox and trucks kept Leo up until 9 P.M., when we all went back out into the yard to ooh and ah at the explosion of colors in the night sky; one of the perks of living in our Berwyn bungalow is proximity to the high school football field where the show takes place. For me, the best fireworks’ shows were the ones after White Sox games, that is, until I could sit next to my grandson as he watched his first.