When I’d received my daughter’s desperate plea: “Can you come watch the kids? We have to go to a town meeting and the babysitter just bailed,” it was almost past my bedtime (kidding, kinda) – 7:00 p.m. My guy and I had just finished dinner and on a whim, I brought the leftovers.
“Yay, your mac and cheese!” the three grandkiddies exclaim after I close the refrigerator door and pull out the container from my overlarge purse.
Now that their appetites are assuaged, what to do? The sun hasn’t quite set, so my brave guy takes the older sister and her brother outside with the electric scooter. Will I ever see him again? In one piece?
The youngest grandchild – 7 going on 47 – insists that I sit with him as he builds worlds on Minecraft. Some of you may ask me, “what is Minecraft?” After diligently watching Neville tap buttons on his IPad to build a wall, a moat, and a concrete building made up of crystals and diatomite, I can honestly say “I have no idea.”
The other two race into the house with a fully intact grandfather. Phew. We all sit on the couch telling stories of friendly ghosts and funny vampires. Somehow that leads to a question of heartbeats, and my granddaughter reminds me that I can hit the little red heart on my Apple watch to measure my heart beats per minute. Huh, I’d never checked that out before. We watch as the little heart goes around and around: “measuring” it assures me. Then a number pops up. 61.
“No,” I explain. “This is what yoga and meditation do. It keeps me calm and relaxed.”
My guy chimes in, “That’s way too slow. Your watch must be broken.”
Sophie is quite proud of her beating heart and begins to perform jumping jacks, racing the heart measurement up to 130.
“My watch is going to give me a warning!” I protest.
My guy smirks, so I hand him the watch and dare him: “Let’s see what your heartbeat is.”
After he places the watch tightly on his wrist, the number goes down. And down. And down. 59.
WHAT DO YOU GUESS YOUR HEARTRATE IS RIGHT NOW?