Certain times of the day, if you’re flipping through the cable channels, you can see a slew of infomercials aimed at keeping a person young: everything from the latest in workout equipment and programs, to nutrition systems, to products for, uh, male performance enhancement. Personally, I’ve discovered something more effective for those in a position to use it: Spend time with your grandchildren.My wife Bernie and I recently visited our daughter Kristen and son-in-law Josh in Atlanta for a few days and I returned, I swear, at least 10 years younger.I’m not sure what exactly enabled me to turn back time, but I have a few ideas. One possibility is my seven-month-old grandson Karter who, since the last I last saw him, has learned to do some remarkable things. Like sit up. And smile all the time, with the rare exception of when he’s hungry. Otherwise, he is totally delightful and his enthusiasm for life is infectious.Meanwhile, Mackenzie, my granddaughter who will be three in March, is energy personified. If we could find a way to bottle her, we’d eliminate our dependence on foreign oil. Show her a field, and she must run around and through it. Teach her a song and she’ll sing it all day long.The first day, I took the kids to Atlanta’s Olympic Village, which features some great attractions, including the CNN Tower, Coca-Cola World, and a huge aquarium. But with all that to do, the best part was sitting on the edge of a fountain and enjoying lunch. (The second best part was the looks I got from a number of young ladies who watched me push a tandem stroller and had to be wondering if I’m the kids’ grandfather or father. Shades of Anthony Quinn! Virility, thy name is Harvey!)Each evening, as Karter slept, I spent what we now call “quality time” with Mackenzie. We sang a duet—with apologies to Carly Simon—of “You’re the Love of my Life.” Then, sprinkled with lots and lots of hugs, we’d review the day’s events (at least those I could remember.)One evening, Mackenzie noticed the alligator on my IZOD shirt and couldn’t resist touching it. This, of course, led to a full out tickling contest, the kind with no losers, only winners. So the next day I bought her an IZOD shirt of her own so that we could walk around Atlanta like twins—specifically the Arnold Schwarzenegger-Danny DeVito variety. I ask you, who but a grandkid could convince a grown man to wear matching shirts in public?We also spent a lot of time in the bathroom. It seems Mackenzie is fascinated with flushing the toilet and brushing her teeth. The former I allowed her to enjoy on her own; the latter we did together. (Note to self: When brushing teeth with anyone under three feet near the sink, make sure you watch where you spit.)The fastest five days of my life ended much too quickly and I’m already waiting eagerly for a return trip to Atlanta in a few days. For one thing, I need a Zwiebach fix. Those of you with kids or grandkids know what I mean; those little toast snacks are addictive, but I just can’t buy them for myself. (What would the neighbors think?)In the meantime, I’m left to ponder how I might suggest to all the presidential hopefuls who hope to fix our healthcare system that all they need to do is assign anyone over 55 a grandchild or two. I guarantee you, the use of prescription medication will plummet … and Zweibach toast stock will go trough the roof!
