There’s also the story from my childhood that everyone seems to bring up… I was the first grandchild on my father’s side, and Gigi had been in a big rush for grandchildren. So he took a lot of liberties with me that he probably shouldn’t have. One of the more outrageous things happened when I was about 2 years old. My parents were sitting in the kitchen with my sister and my grandmother – and my grandfather took me outside for some air. A little while passed, and the adults in the house started to wonder where we’d gotten off to. So my father came outside and walked around the house… he could hear us talking (well, I wouldn’t say I had the firmest grasp of the language at that point), but he couldn’t figure out where we were, so he came back into the house. Then, they started to hear my grandfather’s ‘Tarzan’ calls (Aaaah-OOOOOOO-ahhhh!) and my giggles… so they came back outside and tried to locate us. They’d just about given up again, but happened to be standing under the huge maple tree in the front yard… when Gigi let loose another Tarzan cry… which came from directly above.
He had climbed up the tree with me – by placing me on a branch, asking me to “stay”, and then scrambling up to where I was. By placing me on progressively higher branches, we managed to get about 8-10 feet up… and were sitting there until my parents and grandmother located us.
Suffice it to say, they were not pleased. But I’m told that I was having a blast! But Gigi was convinced to hand me down to my father… and then my father had to help Gigi down, too.
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