My grandfathers’ job was to help out around the yard and house, especially the kitchen. If it was raining sometimes, the kitchen was occupied by my dad and uncles; so he would sit on the chesterfield in the living room and watch the big radio, while he peeled pails of potatoes and carrots. Dad would have changed the kitchen radio to a music station and chased him out of the way.

Granddad and I were always in the way. The other kids probably felt it too. Mom said, “Out of sight is out of mind”. So they made themselves scarce after chores were done. It was safer that way. But they had better be within hearing distance if dad were to call for them.

None of us were allowed in the living room unless it was a special occasion, so I would sit on the wooden steps at the entrance and watch Granddad peeling potatoes or carrots and listening to the movie on the radio. We would exchange glances now and then or he’d raise an eyebrow and make a funny face at a particularly suspenseful scene and I would cover my mouth and giggle. It was probably Inter-sanctum or one of those old suspense stories, with the squeaky door.

I could go into the living room to set his hair though. When it was a special night and Granddad was going out dancing, he’d get all dressed up in his blue pinstriped suit. I’d watch him steadily while he polished his saddle-shoes, shave and slap Aqua Velvet on his cheeks and neck.

Last step was applying the Brilcream to his thick black hair; ‘a little dab will do ya’ he’d say. When he was ready, I’d get to climb up on the couch and set his waves. He wouldn’t let anyone else do it. He said my little fingers were the perfect size and I knew exactly how he wore his hair. I was so proud. I’d jump down the steps into the kitchen a do a little tap dance like Shirley Temple just  to introduce him looking grand in his ‘Sunday Best’ and his perfectly set waves.

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