Son, Say Goodnight To Grandpa - Part 2

originally my intent to expound on memories when paternal grandfather erode out to said residence, and averse to expand horizons asthma late mum didst goad him (in vain) to commingle, find intelligent links analogous to electronic signals communicating ip node but this towheaded grandson, merely excited when me daddy's papa came to this figurative antipode, where pegged back in time when this elderly regal family member only a half decades shy, whence benchmarked by horse drawn carriages rode but more to the point, twas how eager to toy with the wristwatch (analog) which chained metal links wore a temporary imprint upon his aged skin – dog head lee remaining even departure time arrive for favorite boyhood relative, which when a kid also glee at occasions treasuring older folk gave me a frog tiled toy (sliding puzzle) that required dexterity moving pieces fastly secured, which when complete always left me agog and this, that or some other gewgaw, souvinir, trinket (plus a bit of chump change given to me) spurred me late mum to spark me mental cog to say “good morning”, “good afternoon”, “goodnight”, or when eggnog proffered to this most senior chronological guest, who sat at the head of table, or blankly watching television like a bump on a log while chided, forced, induced... to parlay social graces from this mere pollywog who (much as delight arose fussing with trappings worn loss on atrophied flesh) a skittishness found me averse to follow orders as if I happened to be a petsmart dog.