We’re experiencing March Madness in this house and it isn’t from a basketball.
Scheduling time for overnight stays with Papa and Gigi has become a big ticket item. It’s almost as difficult as planning a family function, except our schedules aren’t so full we have to use our phones to remember where we’re supposed to be. The next kid who calls requesting a babysitting gig for one of the grandkids will not have the luck of the Irish, because we’re all booked up this month.
Last weekend we had the 4-year-old grandsons, Hank and Gavin, along with the newbie, 7-month-old June. This was our first time having three of them spend the night at the same time but I’ve discovered two 4-year-olds requires me to play Nerf guns a lot less than when just one of them is here.
I think it’s rather extraordinary how grandkids can behave so badly when their parents are around and yet be perfect angels when they’re with us. The parents think we’re just biased since we believe our grandkids can do no wrong although it could also be from giving them their sweet treats an hour before the parents show up. Regardless, it’s a rare occasion anyone would get in trouble at Papa and Gigi’s.
It was time for June to go to bed and the boys asked if they could watch Kid YouTube on my phone while I rocked her to sleep. Those boys are something else, I thought to myself while she downed the last couple of ounces, knowing how to operate an iPhone at such a young age. Just about the time I was ready to “drop and duck” June into the crib, Hank busted through the door.
“Hey,” he yells, “I got my dad on the phone.” Panic mode set in since the son-in-law’s only dial me up if they absolutely have no other recourse. “What’s wrong,” were the first words out of my mouth. “Nothing,” he said, “Hank called me.”
With the baby on one hand, the bottle in the other, the cell phone was being held between my shoulder and cheek and before I could ask the 4-year-old how he managed to call anyone since he can’t even read yet, he grabbed the phone and was gone.
I was trying to convince the baby she hadn’t just taken a cat nap, it really was bedtime, when I heard Gavin say to Hank, “tell her to call my Dad.” Her?
I just needed a few more minutes to seal the deal with June but that was more than enough time for the boys to manage to call two more people with Siri’s assistance. I’m sure their parents were less than thrilled to answer the phone thinking I was on the other end and instead they hear the shrill of 4-year-olds who are making prank phone calls.
By the time I got my phone back there had been more than 50 photos taken of each other, their feet, legs, arms, a random wall and texts from the parents, “is everything ok over there?”
I called a foul on the boys, Papa asked for a time-out and they slam dunked a bag of chocolate donuts. I love my March madness.
-- Sandy Turner lives in Independence. Email her at firstname.lastname@example.org