A Post-Election Children's Book Attempt, November 2024

Writing makes me feel better, so, without a firm foundation on how best to describe how I feel using more than one syllable, I’ve turned my attention to trying to write a children’s book, the kind where even the monsters have a twinkle in their eyes. I’ve got a problem, though. I haven’t been able to come up with a happy ending. My story makes sense right up until the moment when the moment calls for the monster to be defeated and the antagonists to settle their differences through the wisdom of the child.

I can’t seem to make that happy ending seem real. Maybe you can help.

I’m calling it Bobby Has Two Grandpas. There’s nothing about it that matches my actual life or the life of anyone I know, except for the nature of the world we live in. I like my grandson's other grandparents. There's never been a hint of antagonism between us.

This is what I’ve got:

Bobby loves nursery school. He loves his friends Emma and Pete and Chris and he loves Miss Maryann who counts and reads and Mrs. Waymeyer who shows him how to hold a violin bow and Mr. Bill who puts out the paints and the brushes.

Bobby loves school but on Saturday when there is no school he loves that, too. He loves extra snuggling with Mama and he loves smelling the bacon and the eggs that Dada is making before Bobby gets out of bed. Saturday they might go to the new Heller’s supermarket and they might go to Massy’s Hardware and he might play tag with his next door friends in the back yard.

Bobby loves Sunday, too. This day is Sunday. Sunday is funday. Sunday is the day when Grandma and Grandpa come to visit. Sometimes on Sunday, Grandma Marge and Grandpa Red come to visit. Sometimes on Sunday, Grandma Betty and Grandpa Blue come to visit. Bobby doesn’t know who’s coming today, but he knows that it will be one or the other and he knows that no matter which, they will love him very very much. Hugs and kisses and treats and reading and dancing and games and play-doh and showing them anything he wants and telling them anything he wants to, too.

On this Sunday Bobby is twice as happy when Grandpa Red’s pickup truck and Grandpa Blue’s little electric car pull into the driveway at the same time. Fun times times two. Right then, though, Dada turns the record player up real loud, he picks Bobby up, and they twirl and dance like they sometimes do to old-timey gospel music on Sunday mornings. Mama goes out on the porch to meet all the grandparents at the same time.

Bobby can't understand what the voices are saying. It sounds to Bobby like everyone is talking at the same time. Bobby doesn't get to wave goodbye.

Bobby was still sad after Mama and Dada took Bobby for pepperoni and pineapple pizza that day. He imagined one purple grandma and one purple grandpa as he fell asleep that night.

Bobby returned to school on Monday and he loved it: Emma and Pete and Chris and a new girl named Nancy and Miss Maryann, and Mrs. Waymeyer and Mr. Bill.

That’s as far as I can make it go.

My original idea was that the presence of Bobby in their lives would allow the grandparents to overcome whatever it is that makes them not want to be around each other and they’d pat each other on the back and agree to disagree and maybe sing Happy Birthday to Bobby together. I’m sorry today, but I can’t seem to make that work. I know what I’m supposed to do and I want a happy ending but how I get there doesn’t seem realistic.

Sorry.