Rob and Lisa are away for a long weekend’s frolic and we get to have our grandson for an overnighter…yeah!
On arrival at Poplar, we take Keenan for a ride in his wagon. As we strap him in the red chariot, he points and grunts to a shovel that he wants to hold onto as we ride around the ’hood….lucky I have a good memory.
Rob told me that he likes to menacingly swing a golf club while riding about town.
I quickly produced from the garage a wedge for the boy to assault the air and menace our butts with…he may as well make an early start on his short game so he doesn’t end up hopeless near the green or women… like papa.
After our walk and relieving the boy of his many layers of clothing, he proceeds to pound on the closet doors…he wants the broom that is held behind the door.
Why he wants a broom to play with when grandma and I have an elaborate toy chest overflowing with stuff for kids is beyond me.
Around the upstairs he runs scattering and threatening dust rather than collecting it.
He thoughtfully puts down the broom then walks over to touch a handle on our kitchen buffet….looks up to me and says no-no!…he understands you see that he has been banned from opening the doors that house grandma’s priceless goblets.
When he slowly opens the buffet door, that is the signal for me to act horrified and chase him away…as I noisily and with much hoopla approach him, he of course bolts and runs into the living room where I catch him, lift him to the clouds and proceed to drop him without mercy on the waiting sofa accompanied by noisy sounds of huge explosions.
This game is repeated until grandpa tires and decides to sneak downstairs, leaving grandma to entertain the imminently entertainable boy.
As I watch TV, Brenda brings Keenan into the room where he immediately upends his toy chest….plays for ten seconds with assorted cars, trucks and rubber ducks then points to the window…meaning we are to lift him up to view his castle…yes, there really is a castle in our yard, equipped with slide, kitchen and the most necessary thing for all toddlers, a jail.
Thank god it’s near supper time…meaning that soon we can put him down for the night….aaaah!
After a spirited and tiring workout on the treadmill (he loves the stupid contraption), Keenan goes down for the night, wakes up about nine to the delight and dread of his weary grandparents.
Later on, we are relieved by his Yaya, (Greek for grandma) who takes him for the day.
Anyhoo, it’s time to take a quick tour around our humble digs and assess the cataclysmic damage.
Let’s see, he broke the lever that opens our horizontal blinds rendering the mechanism useless…he twisted out of shape, our vertical blinds in the dining room…he removed all of our safe corner protectors from our perilous furniture and scattered them to kingdom come…he amassed his toys over every square inch of the family room…left the recreation room littered with hockey sticks and pot pourri…left the upstairs covered in brooms, mops and cushions…and gave us thirty hours of pure bliss….and when we recover, we’ll beg to do it again.