Grandpa loved clocks. He had lots of them. They were in his basement. Every time I went down the stairs, I would hear a million tick-tock, tick-tocks. On the hour, all kinds of chimes would ring. I loved it down there. Grandpa always let me explore his clocks.
I remember times when Grandpa would repair clocks. People learned that he liked to work on clocks, so they brought him their broken clocks. I was with him one day when Mrs. Anders brought him one.
"This clock doesn't run," she said.
"They aren't supposed to," Grandpa replied with a twinkle in his eye.
"What?" Mrs. Anders said.
"They are supposed to keep time, not run. They have no legs."
Mrs. Anders laughed. I rolled my eyes. I had heard that joke many times before.
"Seriously," Mrs. Anders continued, "I wind it, but it only keeps time for about four hours. Then it quits."
"We'll take a look at it," Grandpa said while looking down to me. He always says I'm his assistant.