You could say I literally crawled into a bittersweet movie called “They Grow Up Too Fast II” and pushed the pause button. My grandson, Henry, and granddaughter, Alice, turned 1 and 5, respectively, during the last week of July. It doesn’t seem like that long ago that my two sons were the same ages (“They Grow Up Too Fast I.
”) Parents Jay and Cara, who live in Springfield, Ill., staged back-to-back birthday parties on the first Saturday of August. Alice and some preschool friends and cousins would spend a couple of hours at the Ergadoozy Creative Play Center.
Family would then gather at home to watch Henry try to eat his birthday cake. The center was definitely a doozy, with seven play areas. The super- duper was a multi-level, maze-like apparatus where kids ages 2 to around 10 can scamper, scurry, climb, tumble and generally create havoc.
Occasionally, a daring parent joins in. As mom and dad prepared the party room, Alice jumped right into the action while I held a mesmerized Henry, who as usual was happy-go-lucky. This incredibly contented toddler smiles more often than a beauty pageant contestant.
His gargantuan grin is infectious. Being near Henry is like listening to bluegrass music on the Fourth of July while eating a chocolate sundae with a cherry on top. After a few minutes of watching the children play, Jay came out to check on things and noticed Henry’s interest.
For the fun of it, we set him on the platform leading up to the second level. Henry can’t quite walk yet, and he struggled to crawl up the surface that is similar to that of a bounce-house. But he loved it.
“You could probably take him up in there,” Jay told me. That’s all I needed, thinking even if he survived five minutes around all of the crazy kids, it would be worth it. I sunk into the surface and struggled to carry him upward as he eagerly wriggled to get going.
Right away, the low ceiling made it obvious that I would join Henry in crawling through this experience. But the first thing he wanted to do was grab hold of the nylon, protective wall netting to stand up and proudly look down on Dad and by then, Mom. That lasted about 30 seconds.
Then off we crawled. “Watch out for the baby,” I warned any children who came up from behind or around a corner. “Baby coming!” As Henry motored along, he would occasionally look back and smile at me as if to say, “Keep up Grandpa.
” We came to a dead-end and took a short sit-down break. Henry looked around and probably couldn’t believe he was such a big boy. Suddenly, he was back into crawl mode and we ventured forward, right into a junior-sized Grand Central Station.
Sweaty, red-faced children (including Alice) whizzed by and bumped into Henry and me while laughing, yelling and occasionally crying. They popped up from a lower floor and dropped down from an upper. It was a whirlwind of activity.
Yet, just for a moment, it felt like Henry’s life had slowed down for me. Grandpa and Grandson were sharing a timeless heaven. After about 20 minutes, I thought he needed a break (or was it me?) so I put him on my lap and we slid down a three-level slide.
Ten minutes later, he got restless (or was it me?) and we crawled back in for another 20 minutes. That night, Henry beamed through multi-colored frosting as he ate his cake, and both Grandpa and Grandson slept like babies. When I woke up, I felt some of the usual aches and pains associated with using body parts in an unfamiliar fashion.
And it made me smile..
