Staying at my grandmother's was the best. She was a large Russian-German woman, who could cook anything. My childhood pal was my Uncle Johnny, my mother's youngest brother, who was a year older than me. I did everything he did, wore everything he wore, played with toys he played with and had blast getting into everything with him. When mama would smack me up the side of the head for something, which was always, my grandmother would say, "Give it to John, too, he needs it," just so I wouldn't feel bad. Then mom would bop him up the side of the head and I would laugh and laugh and laugh.
Anyway, one day, John and me decided we wanted a swimming pond in the back yard. So, we went in the garage and grabbed two spades and went out back and started to dig a little ways from the house, and down a slope where you couldn't see too well. We started about 9 in the morning. Every now and then, my grandmother would shout from the kitchen, "what are you kids doing out there? It's too quiet!" We told her nothing and kept on digging.
Well, around 6, before supper, we had dug a hole about 6 feet deep and about 5 feet round. So John went and got the hose and we got about 3 feet filled up and then we jumped in. About that time, my grandma called us in for dinner, and we couldn't get out because it was a mudslide in there.
So after calling us about 4 times, here comes my grandmother. "Oh my God, you kids!" She grabbed John by the arms and pulled him out and whipped the hell out of him. Then she grabbed me up and whipped the hell out of me...well, when mom came over, I got double from her
...and John laughed and laughed and laughed.
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