ThomasLitchford

Friday morning, I was working on the computer when Danielle said she thought it would be a good idea to drive out to Waverly, New York, to see her grandparents. I hummed and hawed and said, Sure, call them and ask if it’s OK.

Of course it was OK. They hadn’t seen Sean since March. So we packed up the car, packed up the baby, and hit the road by about noon.

These are the kinds of things you do during the Year of Bliss.

We spent a quiet two days 6.5 hours west of the craziness that is Newport on Labor Day weekend. We sat around and told stories about the baby and listened to Danielle’s grandfather Walt spin his yarns. Walt is a truly great storyteller. He’s the kind of guy who always has a joke (it’s likely to be off-color) or a story about some distant kin.

The best story this visit was about Quentin, the 10-year-old son of Walt’s nephew Brian (I think; this is Danielle’s side of the family, so the tree branches get a little tangled up in my memory). Anyway, Quentin is ‘just like an old man,’ says Walt. He’s always thinking things over and responding with something like, ‘Yeah, that’ll work,’ or complaining about needing to get something to eat.

For example, Quentin, his brother Grant, and their dad brought a truckload of firewood over to Walt’s house and unloaded and stacked it. When it was all done, Walt said, ‘Well, I guess you guys probably want to get paid for all that hard work.’ ‘Yep,’ said Quentin. ‘How much would you say I owe you?’ asked Walt. ‘Well, whatever you think is right,’ said Quentin. ‘How’s about $80 sound?’ asked Walt. ‘That’ll work,’ said Quentin.

Remember, he’s 10.