BUCKING THE SYSTEM; DISCOVERING JUST WHAT GRANDPAS ARE MADE OF

What are little boys made of?

What are little boys made of?

Frogs and snails, and puppy-dogs' tails;

And that's what little boys are made of.

What are little girls made of?

What are little girls made of?

Sugar and spice, and everything nice;

And that's what little girls are made of.

But what about Grandpas?

When I was a little girl, I just knew my dad was the best thing there was. My dad was stronger, taller, happier, and generally nicer than most other daddies around town. People loved him for a whole lot of reasons, but I loved him because he was mine.

It wasn't in Dad's plan to have just two daughters and no sons. I'm sure he had dreams of going to college football games to watch his son play rather than carrying a video camera at the high school powder puff football game where his daughter played. But the cool thing was he was there.

Dad didn't necessarily understand what little girls were made of, but he adapted pretty well. He had to put up with a lot, including shopping for Easter dresses, prom gowns, and feminine hygiene products on occasion, but he took it like a champ.

He even handled giving me away at my wedding pretty well ... a little too well, in my opinion.

But if dad was a little confused about daughters, he knows exactly what to do with grandsons. It's no secret my kids and husband are crazy about their Pawpaw. And they've become even more enamored of him since he decided to treat Jerry, his god brother Darrick, and my husband to their first professional baseball game.

My dad doesn't know how to do anything halfway. He arrived to pick up the trio carrying new Cardinals' outfits for the kids to wear. He tolerated them singing rousing of renditions of "Take Me Out to the Ballgame" all the way to St. Louis, and he made sure they tasted every hot dog, bratwurst, popcorn, soda, juice, box of Cracker Jacks, bag of peanuts and cotton candy that was sold in the ballpark.

But that's not all. When they came home, each child toted a baseball card taken at the game that featured them dressed up like ball players (Dad took the 8x10 home). They also received autographed hats to commemorate the occasion.

With all that going on, it almost made me wish I had been one of the boys, especially since there's already been talk of a trip to a Titans game this year. I bet I could learn to like frogs and snails and puppy dog tails, at least for one day.

Tamara Zellars Buck is a staff writer for the Southeast Missourian.