My son and daughter-in-law called to say they were bringing the grandkids for the weekend. Yay! Upon their arrival, Jake and Kenny immediately took off for Home Depot for some manly-man errands (conveniently located directly across from their favorite sports bar…yeah, they were gone for the day). Sandra and I got the wee ones occupied, while we settled in for giggles and gossip.
Some time later, I noticed Gage was not where I left him. Not panicking quite yet, we set off to search the house. No Gage. Okay, NOW we’re panicking. Spent the next 45 minutes tearing the house apart, running down the street, and searching the soccer field next to our house. No Gage. By this time, Sandra was hysterical and I was getting ready to call 9-1-1, when we heard the sound of angels…a thumping from the trunk of Sandra’s car and a little voice yelling, “Grandma, here I am!”
After hugs and tears and a giant bowl of ice cream for Gage, who was ever so proud of his secret hiding place where “even Mommy and Grandma couldn’t find me!” we gently explained to young grasshopper that mommies and grandmas don’t particularly like hide-and-seek and we didn’t want to play that game EVER AGAIN.
By Sunday, I was comatose on the couch. Three full, busy days with Kenny, me, Jake, Sandra, 5-year-old grandson and new baby granddaughter, their puppy, our 2 Chihuahuas, AND my ex-husband who flew in from Maui to see the kids (yes, he stays with us…it’s weird, but it works). Sleeping bags and air mattresses in the living room, nonstop laundry, grandson meltdown because he lost his first tooth and promptly swallowed it, so SURE the tooth fairy wouldn’t come, grandma-lesson in why she shouldn’t put her wine in a bright yellow plastic cup and set it within arm’s reach of grandson, proving that grandson has a prematurely sophisticated palette and likes Cabernet, but not scoring any points with prodigy’s parents, granddaughter constantly looking for milk boobs like a shark for fish (even with grandma, no matter how many times I told her mine weren’t functional…hell, they’re barely decorative anymore), 3 yappy alpha dogs Scooby-doo’ing across the hardwood in nonstop chase mode (one pooped on my best area rug, but the other two aren’t giving him up…oh sure, NOW they’re friends), kitchen set continually on “graze,” with dishes to match, and toys, porta-cribs, diaper bags, car seats, and video games covering every surface of the house.
As they were all loading up their cars and I was gazing longingly at my fluffy down comforter and king-size bed, my daughter-in-law looked at me and laughed, “But if we told you we were all coming back next weekend, you’d love it.” And she’s right.