On a hot summer day in August, I took Catherine, Aidan, Chandler, and Elliott to Altitude, a trampoline park. Because of a torn contact lens, Catherine had to stop jumping early and be delivered to an eye appointment. The agreement was that the three boys would keep jumping during the brief time I would be away.
Just before leaving with Catherine, I gathered the children for a water break. Elliott insisted that he did not need water; he needed candy. After touching his sweaty little body, I replied, “No, Elliott, you really need some liquid. No candy at this time.” A serious pout began.
As I prepared to leave, Aidan whispered, “Grandma, Elliott may really need some water. Would you leave some money with me just in case he needs something?” Well, of course I would. Off I drove with Catherine.
Upon my return, Aidan confessed, “Grandma, I got worried about Elliott. He wouldn’t jump; he wouldn’t drink anything. He just sat there pointing. So to take care of him, I bought some candy and made him share it with Chandler and me. That way, Elliott didn’t get too much sugar.” How thoughtful of Aidan. Looking at Elliott, I said, “Next time, let him pout.”
Hmmm. Perhaps from the beginning Aidan had a divinely conceived plan to get candy for everyone as soon as I left with Catherine. I ponder this remote possibility. . .
You have to love a kid who works from a master plan to manage the adults in his life. At age twelve, Aidan never misses a beat. Apparently, we adults totally lack the resources to keep up with his drumbeat. I find myself smiling. Oh — the possibilities for this kid.