When I told my mom we were moving to New York, she had two things to say: “This is karma for me moving away from my mother in 1966” and “Well, I guess it’s Grammy & Grampy’s turn.”
Since my kids are the first and only grandchildren on both sides of the family, they are a precious commodity. Even after a week of stinky feet and “knock-the-warrior off-the-bed” game, it seems the grandparents can’t get enough.
I have to hand it to G & G. I can’t tell you how old they are--even the Professor doesn’t know his mother’s real age—but I can tell you they outlasted two very active boys running around Manhattan for seven days straight. Not many people, no matter how fit, nice, smart, patient, or God-like they are, can do that.
The highlight of the week was the Sea -Air Museum. The boys loved the USS Intrepid aircraft carrier and exploring the military vessels. Anything from World War II captures First Born Prince’s imagination and Charming Baby is so easily impressed, he could just as well have been testing beds at Mattress Barn as he tried out the bunks on the submarine.
I even threw in a zinger at the beginning of the visit: limit the quantity of burgers, French fries and candy! I know this was a tough request, and have probably earned the biggest pain-in-the-ass-of-the-year award, but hey, it’s in my job description.
My kids won’t realize how good they have it until they are too old to appreciate Grandpa springing for admission tickets or Grandma spending hours planning cool things to do.
No, it won’t be until they have kids and are visiting grandparents and look in on them asleep in the guest bed, peaceful, bathed and with the tiniest little bit of Easter chocolate on the corners up their upturned mouths…
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