My neighbor Crandall stopped by.

&uot;How are you doing?&uot; I asked.

&uot;I’ve got a grandson coming to spend a few days with me.&uot;

&uot;That sounds wonderful,&uot; I said.

&uot;Yeah, except it has been a while since I’ve spent that much time around a kid. Kids are just like cornflakes, you know, no two of them are alike.

Keeping a kid happy can be as hard as Chinese algebra. I was wondering if you had anything that I could use to keep the little guy occupied?&uot;

&uot;Sure,&uot; I replied, &uot;how old is he?&uot;

&uot;Well, I’m pretty sure he isn’t driving yet. I used to play peekaboo with him, but now he grows tired of it after a few days.&uot;

&uot;Could you be a little more precise? How old?&uot;

&uot;He’s just a little fellow. You know, a curtain climber, an ankle biter, a rug rat &045; he’s got room and time to grow.&uot;

&uot;There are a bunch of toys and things in the closet in the spare bedroom.

Take a look in there and see what you can find.&uot;

Crandall spent some time in the closet. I should have found something for him. One of his ex-wives said that Crandall couldn’t find a fire truck in a phone booth. There was a lot of crashing and cussing. I didn’t want to look. He came wandering back into the kitchen, holding an item in his hands.

&uot;Find something appropriate?&uot; I asked.

&uot;Yup. Remember this baby?&uot;

&uot;I sure do,&uot; I said. &uot;It’s the ever-popular ‘See and Say.’ Your grandson will get a kick out of that. Plus it will teach him the sounds made by a number of different animals. It appears that you are perilously close to having a good day.&uot;

&uot;Thanks,&uot; said Crandall as he made his exit.

I didn’t see my neighbor for a few days. Then he stopped by early one morning.

&uot;Returning the ‘See and Say,’ I see,&uot; I said.

&uot;If I ever ask you for anything again, promise me that you will not help me!

You are lower than a bunion on a snake.&uot; He was madder than a wet hen.

&uot;Your grandson didn’t like the ‘See and Say?’&uot;

&uot;I’ll take stupid questions for $500, Alex.

I am sickened by the whole experience. It was my worst time since the day Doctor Splint Eastwood fell into my well and broke his collarbone. That proved to me that doctors should tend the sick and leave the well alone.&uot;

&uot;What happened?&uot; I asked.

&uot;Well, the kid came over. He is a handsome devil. It’s obvious that he takes after my side of the family. He has teeth like Pearl’s. She has only the one left, but it’s a beaut. I got out the ‘See and Say’ and showed him how to use it. I turned the arrow to the picture of the cow and pulled the string. The thing says, ‘The cow goes &uot;Moo.&uot;’ I said, ‘Moo.’ Oh, how my grandson laughed. You would have thought he had looked at your graduation photo. Things were going smoothly, when up jumped the devil. My grandson asked me to do the sounds of a frog. I told him that I didn’t do frog calls.&uot;

&uot;A mere pothole in the road of life. It still sounds like things were going well,&uot; I offered.

&uot;Oh, you think so, eh? You must be only four credits short of a degree in lunacy. You are so stupid, you couldn’t pour water out of a boot if the instructions were on the heel. It was the berries. I turned the arrow to the pig. I gave the cord a pull. The danged contraption says, ‘The pig goes &uot;oink.&uot;’ I said, ‘Oink.’ My grandson laughed and laughed. Then he asked me once more if I would do the sound of a frog. I told him for a second time that I didn’t do frog sounds. I turned the arrow to a dog. All boys like dogs. I gave the string another yank and heard, ‘The dog goes ‘woof.&uot; I barked right along with the ‘See and Say.’ The kid laughed until tears ran down his face. Then he asked me again if I could make the sound of a frog.&uot;

&uot;Did you?&uot;

&uot;No. I told him that I didn’t do the sound of a frog. Then I asked him why he wanted me to sound like a frog.&uot;

&uot;What did he say?&uot;

&uot;He said that he wanted to hear me do a frog because his father had told him that when I croaked, they will all get to go to Hawaii.&uot;

Hartland resident Al Batt writes columns for the Wednesday and Sunday editions of the Tribune.