Robot Papa arrives with a story to tell

If I don’t catch my grandsons up under the arms and swing each of them into the air as I greet them, it is an undeniably odd day. So the boys knew something was really up when I welcomed them in something other than my usual knees bent, arms spread, come-to-Papa pose.

“Remember boys,” their mother cautioned, “Papa can’t pick you up for a couple of weeks, and you can’t run and jump on him either.”

Charlotte then left the explaining to me, presuming, I suppose, that I would simply tell them I’d had an operation and needed to take it easy for a spell. My own daughter should know me better than that. If there’s a story to tell, then by golly, I’m going to make it a good one!

The straight-forward “adult” account was I’d had a routine, robotic laparoscopy, to repair a hernia. And while that may sound like something fancy to you and me, it’s just a mouthful of oversized words to the average preschooler. At 2 and 4 years old, respectively, Max and James deserved a better version.

“Listen to this, guys,” I said, dropping my voice to a mysterious hush. “Just a few days ago, the doctor sent robots in from either side of my belly to do an operation, along with a camera right down the middle to watch them work!”

Eyes widened and jaws dropped.

“Do you want to see where they went in?”

“Yes, Papa, show us where the robots are!” they cheered in unison.

Charlotte slapped a palm to her temple and shook her head in exasperation as I raised my shirt to show the boys three small bandages.

I’ll have to admit it was not my original intent to let the boys believe there were still robots inside of me. However, given the opportunity to carry such an intriguing storyline forward throughout the weekend, I couldn’t help myself.

“The camera went in here and the robots, here and here,” I said before snapping my shirt back down and flipping into a slow, monotone, robotic voice. “The robots entered, but I do not know whether they have left me!”

Then I turned abruptly and, while emitting an array of beeps, whistles and gear-grinding chirps, shuffled stiff-legged across the room. The boys were instantly smitten with “Robot Papa.” I read books aloud in my new android voice, played games, and even constructed lesser robots from building blocks and Lego pieces throughout the day.

While I suppose I’ll need to return to good old “merely human” Papa at some point in the near future, I’ll reserve the right to occasionally slip back into robot mode when the spirit strikes me. I’m not so sure how their mother will feel about that, but I guarantee the boys will love it.

Kristin and John Lorson would love to hear from you. Write Drawing Laughter, P.O. Box 170, Fredericksburg, OH 44627, or email John atjlorson@alonovus.com.