It has only been through the exercise of great restraint that I have not yet written of my grand-babies. They are a little over 17 months old now, and I have not seen them for 6 weeks, which is the longest period of time in their short lives that I have gone without seeing them. I am eagerly anticipating giving them each a big squeeze and kiss first thing in the morning after we arrive, since we will arrive much too late at night to see them until the morning. Like most people, my job takes time away from many other interests, including travel to the Twin Cities where everything comes in twos. My daughter and her husband live there with their lovely twin daughters, two dogs and two cats and a bunch of aimless turtles. A weekend at their household is both wonderful and a reminder as to why babies are (generally speaking) born to and raised by youngish adults.
I have three children: A daughter and son who were born when I was quite young, poor and energetic; and Guzzy Girl who was born when I was no longer young, but was somewhat wiser, less poor and more patient. My daughters are 16-1/2 years apart; there was one very memorable day when one daughter turned exactly 18 years old on the same day that her sister turned 18 months old. My grown children are healthy, University-educated, kind, smart, well-married and financially independent of their mother; a very satisfactory outcome on all accounts.
My oldest daughter has a birthday this weekend. I am avoiding thinking of the exact number, because it is simply not fathomable that I should have a daughter of such an age. I am hoping that she and her husband take advantage of grandma and grandpa’s visit to go out on a birthday date, but I’m not entirely certain they trust us with the babies.
Perhaps they are aware of the two dozen cookies, toys and games that I am smuggling into their house, as part of my plot to undo all their good parenting and spoil the girls rotten. Or perhaps my daughter remembers that I have payback coming. Back in the day that Guzzy Girl was an infant, Daughter #1 and her brother would occasionally babysit. In those days pictures were taken by CAMERAS on ROLLS OF FILM that had to be DEVELOPED / printed at a drug store, Since digital cameras were not yet on the horizon. (For some odd reason I am CAPITALIZING obsolete terms). A couple times a year I would take the stockpiled ROLLS OF FILM to be DEVELOPED. On one occasion I was very surprised to discover a picture of Baby Guzzy with an empty bottle of beer propped up next to her and another picture of Guzzy ‘driving’ the car. It was all extremely suspicious.
And, don’t even get me started about the whole Tinky-Winky episode.