The other day, I saw the above book and mitt set called “Tickle Monster” on some website.  I thought it was the cutest thing ever and immediately added it to Ashton’s Christmas Wishlist on Amazon dot Com.  Is this something he wants for Christmas?  No, but it is something that I want him to have for Christmas.  Why?  Because seeing this product made me immediately think of my grandpa and the fifty million amazing memories I have from growing up with that man and the constant games of “Tickle Monster” or “Zombie” that he would play with us until he nearly collapsed from exhaustion.  What made me laugh about the Tickle Monster mitts, is that they would have totally SAVED us growing up.  My grandfather had nails… and would

chase you

hunt you down and tickle you until you bled (at least that is what it felt like).  You would be crying and trying to make it sound like you were laughing and it was hilarious.  As much as you hated it, you wouldn’t trade it for the world because he was just SO AWESOME!  But GOD… if he had only had these mitts.

This was my grandpa’s house in Springfield, PA, which is right outside of Philly, and is where I spent an ENORMOUS chunk of my childhood.  With my father being in the Navy and being out to sea every year of my life and us having no family in Virginia Beach, my mom would load us up in the car and make the 4.5 hour trip up to Philly as often as she could.  Weekend trips, birthday trips, holiday trips - we were constantly at my grandparent’s house growing up.  That trip became nothing to us, it was like a trip to the grocery store.

This is a picture of my mom with my grandpa, her father, James Vincent Wallace.  To look at him, you would never guess what an amazing man he was, but he was.  My grandfather attended Rutger’s University on a full football scholarship.  He also played baseball for them.  After college, he was offered a chance to play in the NFL, but he met and fell in love with my grandma and felt that was no career path for starting a family and family is what he wanted.  He joined the military and was a World War II veteran.  After his time in the military, he worked for a car dealership for 24 years.  My grandparents had 8 children - 7 girls and 1 boy (my poor Uncle Jimmer).  Because of the number of children they had, I was blessed with more cousins then you could imagine and some Aunts that weren’t much older then me growing up.

This is only a handful of the cousins that I have on my mom’s side of the family, in a portrait with my grandparents.  My grandparent’s house was like a madhouse 24/7 with kids everywhere, adults hanging out playing cards or something, our dogs wandering around and yet in my memories, I don’t seem to ever remember that bothering anyone - it was the norm.  There was always a fire burning, there were always kids dragging toys in from the porch, exploring the spooky attic and running down to the basement.  There was running around in the huge yard, playing in the woods, rides in the wheelbarrow… hooked up to the riding lawnmower and snowmobiles.  Most of all there was laughter… tons and tons of laughter - like the time my mom and some of my aunts decided to play strip poker in the middle of the damn day at the dining room table and one of my other aunts (I should say my “favorite Aunt” - in case she reads this - she has always made us make that fact known) decided to drop in unannounced with her sister-in-law - THE NUN.  You have never seen grown women scramble faster or laugh harder.  This kind of stuff was normal in our family.

As much as we went up to see them, they would come to our house too.  If my grandma came, they would drive down in the old Pontiac Grand Prix, but if it was just my grandpa, which a lot of times it was, he took the Greyhound bus - ALWAYS.  We would have to head on up to the True Value Hardware store to pick him up, because that is where the bus took him.  He would come do handy-work around the house and help my mom out, while my dad was away, then he would do the same for the neighbors or anyone that passed by.  He could never just sit, he had to keep busy, UNLESS Jeopardy was on.  If Jeopardy was on, he was watching it.  Not just watching it, answering every single question correctly BEFORE they told the answer - he was AMAZING.

If he wasn’t piddling and whistling, you could find him in his chair - HIS CHAIR.  You were allowed to sit in it WITH HIM… but not without.  He would read in his chair, or work on the Crossword Puzzle or Jumble, or just sit there and watch his grandchildren playing on the floor in front of the fire.  Every once in a while he would get up, go out the porch doors behind his chair and grab more firewood.  If you asked him what he was doing… his answer was always the same “eating chocolate ice cream… what does it look like I’m doing?”

My grandpa was not the affectionate type, but was loyal to a tee!  When you went to hug him, he would pat you on the back and say “alright now… come on… go play” or something like that and I don’t think I ever remember him referring to my grandma as anything other than “woman,” as in “WOMAN… that is enough!”  But you KNEW this man loved you, because he was always doing for you.  Always.  He loved ALL of his children and he loved his grandchildren even more.  He was so proud of his enormous, CRAZY family.  And god knows, we loved him more than anything!

My grandpa died of cancer when I was 19 years old and one of the things I remember was that he had us laughing up until the moment he died.  His obituary stated that he was survived by my grandma, which is not true, she had passed 10 months before him, also of cancer and very sudden.  He had been successfully fighting cancer before she died and in my opinion, just gave up after she passed.  When he died, it was so much harder on everyone, because that meant the end of grandma and grandpa’s house, the end to a huge portion of my childhood.  I wish more than anything that my kids could have known him.  He would have loved my kids so much and they would have loved him.