On the road in the Netherlands with a five year old

I spent most of my adult life trying to get my kids out the door. “Begone children,” was my motto. When they were young, I’d wonder if it was too soon to suggest they get a job babysitting or as a lifeguard or maybe at a garment factory. Don’t worry, gentle reader, when I kicked them out the front door, my wife brought them back in the side door. But if wishful thinking was enough for the crime, I’d be in solitary confinement scratching marks on the wall today. 
 
But now as a grandfather, I am all in. Yup, even I am befuddled by this development. I just shrug, smile at my darling, and buy another round of apple drinks with Disney Princesses adorning the tops. 
 
But traveling with a five year old? 
 
The Mauritshuis in The Hague, Netherlands
 
 
Yup, I sound dopey even to myself. I suspect this is what comes from too many readings of Pooh’s adventures during the windy day at the Hundred Acre Wood. Riveting stuff. 

The Girl’s eyes do follow Juliette around the room — to a five-year-old’s wonder and amazement — and a 70-year-old’s delight. 

We prepped for this visit to the Mauritshuis with multiple grandpa/grandchild discussions about The Girl. We drew her with magic markers. We read a kid’s book on the life of Vermeer. And I showed her the magic of the small dab of white paint that made up the pearl earring. 

And, although I am crazy, I am not a total fool. On the day of the visit we stopped at the museum cafe and had a hot chocolate with a mountain of whip cream. She may not remember Vermeer, but she’ll remember the whip cream. Same same. 

In any case, it all worked. Juliette was so primed that earlier that day as we biked around The Hague she shouted from the child seat on the back of her dad’s bike:

“Grandpa, grandpa, I see your favorite painting.”

Sure enough.

A visit to Keukenhof.

The flower gardens curve in waves of red and yellow and pink on green manicured grass. Running water from the many small ponds mute the distant sounds of the calliope near the gardens’ entrance. And the heavy, grey Dutch skies do their best to mimic the Old Masters’ skies of lead. Keukenhof in springtime.

Juliette and her grandmother are in hog heaven. They both plant gardens back in Des Moines and Denver. They have matching gardening gloves, identical shovels, and red watering cans — one small and one large. They love plants and the outside. Give them a few bulbs and a bare patch of dirt and magic will follow.

So Keukenhof, the Dutch gardens showcasing 7 million spring-flowering bulbs, was a no brainer. 

Flowers, flowers, and more flowers. And when everyone has had enough of flower gazing, Keukenof provides Miffy playground toys, a giant windmill, and a bridge across a pond that dips just low enough to get your feet wet. And don’t forget hot dogs for lunch. Keukenhof is the Iowa State Fair with flowers. Although I can’t figure out who comes on East Side Night when there is no Lee Township as the dividing line. Perhaps Germany?

The North Sea fairytales.

The North Sea is feeling its oats today. The wind blows, the waves roar, and the rain spits. My granddaughter, with cold, wet hair plastered to her face, laughs with delight from the back of my bike. And that is before we even get to the Fairytale Sculptures by the Sea in The Hague. 

On the terrace outside the Beelden Aan Zee Museum are 23 sculptures by Tom Otterness. Who’s from Kansas, by the way. The sculptures are both gigantic and tiny. But all offer a whimsical look on generally terrifying fairy tales.

Juliette runs from sculpture to sculpture, speaking to each, and then leaving a quick kiss on their cheek before running to the next. At last she settles to climbing into the giant’s head from Gulliver’s Travels.

“Grandpa, there’s a little person in here.”

Of course there is, but I’m still not climbing into that giant’s head.

My new motto: “Grandpas don’t have fun.”

Back on the bike, this story of being on the road with a five year old runs its course. And it ends as all good stories should end — your listener fast asleep. 

The End.

Joe

 

 

 

 

 

9 thoughts on “On the road in the Netherlands with a five year old

  1. Isn’t it wonderful to see the world through the eyes of a child? Whole new experience that grandpas love the best!

  2. Joe and Theresa,
    How very fortunate that you get to travel with precious Juliette! I enjoyed the photographs, especially the last one when your granddaughter has fallen asleep during your bike ride. It is reminiscent of the many bikers on the Jordan Creek Trail
    pulling their Burley’s, often with a little one fast asleep with their relaxed heads tilted.
    May you share many more excursions with Juliette.

  3. Lekker, boetie! Dit gaan goed met die kleindogter, ja?

    Sorry, don’t speak any Dutch at all. Only Afrikaans. Best I can do. Looks like a stunning good time.

  4. Great heart warming story of your adventures! Great pictures also. Some day I will tell you about my summers being exiled back to Massachusetts to work in an ancient shoe factory. Talk about getting rid of your kid for the summer!

  5. Popping up me before I read the accompanying text, that giant metal Otterness sculpture struck me at first as the pate of the narrator who posted a travelogue of his expedition in March 17, 2024. Or some beer-guzzling bloated guy’s panza, another site that diligent mothers shield the tender, young eyes of their children in the exercise of responsible motherhood. Thank the goddess was a fleeting first impression.

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