I've been wearing suspenders for more years than I can remember. The other day, Asa said to me, "Papaw, could I have a pair of 'spenders' like yours?" I was flattered to think he wanted to be like his Papaw so we went shopping for suspenders. We looked Wal*Mart up one side and down the other but couldn't find any. I remember when they used to come on those little cardboard things and you could get them just about anywhere.
Asa was so disappointed that, when we got back to the house, I told him I would cut down a pair of mine to fit him. Before he left, we did all the measuring. The next day, Asa came running up to me and said, "Papaw, did you get my spenders done?" I put them on that little boy and he sure strutted around showing them to everybody. We went down to look at my garden and as we were walking down the hill, I noticed he had leaned back a little and had his stomach stuck out.
I asked him what he was doing and he said, "...walking like Papaw." When we got almost there, I sat down while Asa went down the hill to take a closer look. He looked at everything, then turned around and started back up the hill. I'd taught him to do the "farmer's" walk and he looked like he was wearing skis. When he got back to where I was sitting, Asa said, "Everything sure is growin'." He wanted to wear the suspenders to school and Rhonda had to tell him they don't allow "spenders" there. He reluctantly left them home but put them back on as soon as he got home from school.
Later on, he was sitting on the end of the couch watching television and had a pillow on his lap. I sat down on the other end and he immediately moved over close to me. He was quiet for a minute or two then looked at me kind of thoughtful looking, "Papaw, I need a straw hat like yours to go with my spenders." I wear an old straw hat with a green visor in the front to shade my eyes. I told Asa that I didn't really know where I could find a straw hat to fit him but that we would try the "fishing" store. That little grandson of mine looked up at me and said innocently, "Papaw, I don't have any fishin' stuff either!"
I treasure times like these and hope that my children and grandchildren will remember them too ~ long after I'm gone.