Our days are fairly routine. I am either awakened by Eli's "Hulloooo?" or Jack's huge paw whacking the wood on the side of the bed. When my eyes fly open, he is standing there looking at me like, "Oh, did I wake you?" After I get my bearings, I head straight for the coffee pot - and the day begins. The only thing that changes the routine is if a service person is scheduled to arrive early, or the grands spend the night. Today, it was the latter.
I love it when the kids sleep over. When it's on the weekend, it's party time! They get to watch TV in bed and snack - and then I change the sheets the next day because it's tough to sleep in a bed littered with Fruit Loops and potato chip smutz. A school night is a different matter. For some reason I had forgotten that, unlike old people, kids get a "second wind" at night. It starts in the bathtub, which should provide a calming response, but in my grands, it's the opposite. If I leave for a second - they're old enough I can safely do so - I return to water everywhere; grandson with a ten inch pile of suds on his head, and mysterious objects in the water. Somehow, even with all the suds and splashing, he is still dirty! I realize it isn't a car wash, but I thought water was the universal solvent which should wash away all forms of dirt? Doesn't apply to him. There is also a direct correlation between my back pain and their level of craziness. Louise Hay, the spiritualist, would have a field day with that.
Anyway, last night, I got them settled, mopped up the water, then went to check on my other kids. The family room was upside down! Literally. Unsupervised, Jack and Rooney went crazy. I had no idea where my camera was, so I will paint a visual - couch was knocked over, rug rolled inside out, various objects strewn about. It was easy to tell the guilty parties. They were standing in the middle of the mess, panting and looking at me like, "What? The cats did it!" The cats were - well - catatonic. They were, on one hand, fascinated by the action, on another, fearing for their lives. By the look of things, they had contributed in their own way by hurling crayons and pencils everywhere. Cat hair on the crayons was kind of a dead giveaway. By this time, my back was trying to separate from my body and go somewhere else to live in peace.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, things settled down and we went to bed. Now, this is where my sanity is truly tested. I adore my grands, but they have the longest arms and legs I've ever seen! They look like a hybrid cross between a human and a praying mantis. Picture eight long limbs, stretching and growing more while they sleep!! Fear takes over as I wait for one of those limbs, which take on a life of their own, to attack me. I decided the best strategy was for me to sleep upside down, with my head at the end of the bed. It worked! I slept and woke with no bruising whatsoever.
Morning. I have employed various methods from a gentle nudge to blasting Reveille to awaken the very same kids who would not go to sleep the night before!!! They were comatose. However, The Pap, was taking them to school, which meant there was a time table. My husband, their grandfather, is a punctual man. In the forty five years I've known him, I have never once seen him be late for anything. He takes no prisoners either. Everybody knew he meant business. Jack, who was the ringleader the night before in destroying the house, made himself real small, and was quietly observing. The cats started throwing up. My granddaughter doesn't know it, but she can thank my quick reflexes for saving her backpack from Fancy's breakfast which he hurled in the exact spot it had been seconds before. Seared into the kids' brains is also the spot where another cat had chucked a hairball. It came within inches of a very nice portrait of the kids. How's that for a childhood memory?
We finally got shoes on, backpacks collected, and everybody in the car. He even let me shut their door before driving off. What craziness! And I love every minute of it....
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| What can I say... |
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| Pap, employing the finger, but being ignored nonetheless. |
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| This says it all |
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