Welcome to the Harris Hotel for Grands where grandkids check-in and would never check out if their parents didn't insist. If it weren't for certain governmental busybodies, I'm sure they'd leave 'em here indefinitely. It'd be longer but we all gotta go sometime if you get my drift.
Some of this is my fault. When we moved here almost 20 years ago I turned what was probably meant to be a hall linen closet into a game closet. Over the years we've accumulated 100s of games suitable for our four-year-old grandson up to our 20-year-old granddaughters. Unfortunately, most don't survive with all their parts intact for long so out with the original and in with the new, more expensive, less well-made ones. A metaphor for life, I guess.
I also have a craft closet filled with all the paraphernalia needed in case any of them get the urge to macrame, sew, quilt, embroidery, or make fun little knick-knacks out of clay. I just wish one of them would get the urge to organize it. Frankly, at this point, I'm afraid to go near it.
The reason for the projects I try to come up with before they get here is twofold – it keeps them busy for several minutes and gives me time to focus on not losing my mind or my patience or both. Also, in the past, some of the little ones had not yet learned the art of good sportsmanship and the games could end up as puppy chow for our dog who thinks anything within her reach is fair game once they've reached the floor.
Anyway, three of our teenage granddaughters finally spent the night after much begging (on my part) to spend some time with me. It's so hard when they get this age. Now they have jobs and chores and friends that are way higher on the 'importance scale' than hanging out with us oldsters. I can't understand why. I'm a barrel of fun until I fall asleep in the middle of whatever we're doing. Ha! Ha!
I think they had a good time. We stayed up late watching a few old television programs. Actually, they stayed up. I fell asleep in my recliner as usual. I woke up just as "Psych" ended and herded them off to bed so we could get an early start to our day. When I say early, I'm thinking 10 a.m. which is early for teenagers.
We made waffles for breakfast then cleared the table for craft time. One granddaughter made a couple of macrame plant hangers while the other two used polymer clay to make really cute miniatures. Next, we ate cheese dip and chips while we played games. Family Feud and Phase 10 topped the list. We were starving by the time we completed the card game and headed to the kitchen to make a supper of cheeseburgers and chips.
I hated to see them load up and head home. The oldest one of the three has a driver's license and the pickup she bought from us so at least we don't have to drive them home.
They keep us young in our minds but definitely not in our bodies. What the younger ones (boys ages four to 12) do is keep us continually exhausted. They remind us that we're not spring chickens anymore. Who the heck wants to be a chicken anyway? All they do is run around the yard clucking and pecking. I think I'd rather be a pig. (No cracks about my resemblance to one, thank you.) Our son has one named Lulu. Lulu weighs about 400 lbs. (I'm just guessing here as I have no idea, but she's HUGE) and lays around all day in the cool mud and eat (not the mud). She gets plenty of leftovers. On second thought, maybe I wouldn't want to be a pig. I'm not too fond of leftovers, but it's still better than being a chicken. She isn't required to lay eggs every day to avoid getting tossed into a pot
Back to the grandkids.
The games we usually play with the boys are Life, Battleship, and Skip-Bo. The younger ones like dominoes or match the Sesame Street characters in between endless viewings of Paw Patrol, Blaze and the Monster Machines or SpongeBob SquarePants. It's non-stop fun, fun, fun.
We look forward to their visits, but we also look forward to them going home. That's the beauty of grandkids. You get to play with them, spoil them, indulge them and send them home to let the parents deal with the aftermath of their spoilage. We immediately collapse into bed the second they are picked up, and we don't care if that second is two o'clock in the afternoon. I think our dogs are planning a breakout.