The central plains in general – and Chicago in particular — had snow on Thursday. That wouldn’t normally impact us. After all, Bill’s mom lives in assisted living and has no reason to be out in the snow. No concerns there. Our kids who had visited her for Easter were long since home, so we didn’t have to worry about their safety.
Nevertheless, the Midwest weather conditions resulted in our plane – waaay down in Arizona – being delayed by a couple of hours. The plane, you see, originated in Chicago.
However, it was all good because we had nowhere we had to be once we landed in Denver. At least not that night. And it was a good thing because security in the Phoenix airport was as bad as I’ve ever seen it. Between snowbirds heading home after Easter and Spring Breakers’ vacations winding down, we settled in for a good long wait. It was fine because we had nothing but time. What’s more, when I checked my email later, Frontier had given me a $25 voucher for my trouble. I won’t turn that down.
We had not a lick of food in our Denver house. It seriously looked like the home of Cindy Lou Who down in Whoville after the Grinch had stolen all of their presents and the roast beast. So once we were settled (and we are grateful that the house was standing in one piece), we ordered Greek food to be delivered, because as usual, the Yellow Bug refused to start. Dead as the proverbial doorknob until such time as we could get the battery a charge. Which we eventually did.
Starting Friday, from 8:30 on, we had grandkids. The number varied based on the time of day. It started with two — Dagny and Alastair. Three more arrived at lunchtime — Kaiya, Mylee, and Cole. The original two went home for a bit, but two more came in their place — Addie and Maggie Faith. Finally, the other two couldn’t stand that there was fun going on without them, and showed up at my front door, cheeks red from riding their bikes the three-block distance to our house from theirs. I bought a family pack of Oreos Friday morning and they were mostly gone by Friday afternoon. Meghan Trainor may think It’s All About the Bass, but in our grandkids’ minds, it’s all about the Oreos.
Besides Oreo crumbs, here’s what time with the grandkids largely consisted of…..
As you can see, now that Cole is almost 2, he is no longer happy just carrying around the Play Doh can; instead, he wants to get his hand in the mix.
Jen came for a visit on Saturday and spent the night, along with Kaiya and Mylee. Cole came for the day, but went home in the evening with his mommy and daddy. A couple of things have changed since I saw him last. First, he has lost all of his little toddler looks. He is now all little boy. Second (and related), he will have nothing to do with the portacrib in which he used to comfortably and cheerfully nap. It’s not enough that he weeps bitterly when I put him in it because he doesn’t want to miss out on the fun; now he is able to crawl out of the crib. After his cries subsided on Saturday afternoon, I quietly tip-toed into the room to see if he had fallen asleep. He greeted me cheerfully at the door. Oh boy.
Saturday evening we had a princess party. When you are the grandfather and brother of girls, you adapt. As you can see, Papa and Cole were happy to join the festivities. Anything for the pound cake and ice cream with chocolate toffee sauce that were the princess treats.
Sunday following church, we dropped the girls off at their home and had lunch with the other grandkids.
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