How the Cookie Crumbles

Life and scribbles on the far side of SIXTY-FIVE


Love You to Pieces

Grandparents would be lying if they didn’t admit that even though they LOVE their grandkids to pieces, the OTHER best part of their visit with you is that they get to go home and sleep like your children all tucked into their beds—the sleep of knowing THEY are yours and you have full responsibility for them.

Remember the sleepless nights: the sore throats and fevers? Let’s not forget the diapers, the wet beds, the potty training days when our kids came along—the ones who are now the parents? Been there. Done that already when you were born! It’s one thing to step in and help out once in a while but where is it written that we’re automatically on call? Ya gotta live your life as as we lived ours: on your own two feet.

I always said I wasn’t going to be a built-in babysitter but I got sucked in when I looked at those sweet innocent faces, with their luminous eyes and satiny skin you ought to be able to buy in the nearest drugstore. Now it’s a slippery slope between getting to do what I’ve been gearing up for in my retirement and giving in yet again.  Stop trying to influence me by using my  grandkids like the proverbial  carrot.

Why should I feel guilty every time you’re in a fix? You say you don’t trust anyone else with them? Ah-huh. I’m retired now. I’m FREE to do as I please. FINALLY. I have a life. Yay. Do you HEAR me?

Knock, knock?

I can’t hear you. Didn’t you say that grandma is going a bit deaf?