Achievement…

What can the average person expect to achieve in his or her lifetime?

While some will, I’m pretty sure most of us won’t snag a Nobel, Emmy, Golden Globe or even first prize at the county fair.

What most of us can expect to achieve is a high school diploma, a college diploma, maybe even a PhD if the money and brains hold out.

Most of us can expect to achieve finding that special someone to share a life.

Most of us can expect to achieve parenthood if so inclined.

Most of us will experience a few years in one or more careers before settling into the retired life.

I just had one of those “decade birthdays”.

I won’t say when it was or what number it was, but there were fireworks involved and let’s just say that “The Sixty’s Generation” has a whole ‘nother meaning for me now.

While any achievement in my previous career may now be obsolete (such is the pace of cutting edge software design), I now realize that true achievement isn’t all about attaining recognition, wealth or status. It’s really much more basic.

For my surprise birthday party, Claudette and daughter Jene’ compiled a “memory book”.

Now that my real memory is beginning to encounter a few “bad sector” faults, they felt that a hard copy backup was necessary. As I started to peruse my birthday book, I came across pictures and comments from lots-a-people I hadn’t expected and others I hadn’t seen for a while.

I must admit that this was an emotional moment as I realize that the following is MY true life achievement:

It’s the best I could ever have hoped for...

Not Everything We Learn In School …

Claudette and I were visiting our grandkids, Paige and Nathan, this weekend. At 2 ½, our first granddaughter, Paige, is well into the cute mastery of baby speech and inventive communication that Grammie and I adore.

We hung around long enough to be invited to stay for pizza from their favorite pie house. When the pizza arrived, everyone seated and everyone served, Paige spotted the two packets of mild hot sauce that came with the pizza.

“Paigie have dippin’ sauce too?”

Momma tried explaining, without much success, that the “sauce” wasn’t the same as the stuff from the local McD’s, and it wasn’t good for little girls.

“It’s too hot and tastes icky!” Momma said while making a sour face.

But Paige was not to be dissuaded. After several pouty demands for “sauce”, Momma finally relented.

Daddy squeezed a thimble size blob of “sauce” on the plate while Paige, happily, bounced up and down in her chair.

The rest of the adults at the table, baby brother could care less, stopped eating while we watched our precious little girl pick up a bite size piece of veggie pizza and carefully dip and take the first bite.

“Ummm”… followed by a surprised look… followed by a wide eyed look… as she put the rest of pizza piece back on the plate and reached with both hands toward Momma whose hands were full with baby brother.

As momma instructed “Drink some milk, sweetie” Paige quickly obeyed.

“That works!” and before Daddy could stop her, she picked up another piece of pizza, dipped it in the sauce and popped it once more in her mouth.

“HOT again!” while she grabbed up the pink plastic milk cup again.

About to repeat the process a third time, Daddy intervened and removed her plate in exchange for a clean one without “hot sauce”.

“Wipe your face, sweetie” instructed Momma and she spotted a couple bits of cheese and avocado on Paige’s chin.

Obediently, Paige used a big napkin and dutifully wiped. She paused and then stuck out her little pink tongue began wiping it repeatedly with the napkin as the “heat” was still plainly evident.

"That's my daughter!" Daddy, who has an affinity for Hananero stuffed olives, proudly announced.