Good morning; its a foggy day for starting your first swim lessons. Your daddy and uncle AJ did their preschool swim lessons at Adventure Sports nearly twenty-five years ago. I haven’t seen you yet this morning and because I am such a butinski, I can tell that you might be late. I nosed in and called mommy to tell her that a 30 minute lesson is very short and do not be late. Go now. Take Liza in a wet diaper and jammies and dress her in the car, get his swim clothes on so he can sit in the hot tub and watch the 9:30 kids in their lessons- before his start. Didn’t you read the instructions I emailed?
Oh my, grandma. Cool your jets. Whew. Breathe. Blow bubbles. Stop flapping your arms, grandma. But, but, he only has four weeks of lessons and I want him to experience a full, non-rushed comfortable entry into swimming. I want him…yep, that’s the point, I want, I want. He’s their son. Cut it out. Go dig in your garden, Grandma. I don’t trust them with anything. Do I? I asked daddy this morning to bring over the laundry (Tuesday is their designated day) before they drive to town. These laundry days have left me swimming in stinky clothes all day long. Wet ones in the washer, no one to move them over to the dryer. Hard objects scraping and clinking around in the tub, against the glass. Knives, necklaces and nails. I try not to interfere, but it gets strewn around my house for two or three days.You could do a better job of it, buddy at age 3!
They better get you there in time.
Hey, we sure had a good time at Echo Lake. Remember Polar Bears on Sunday. One for the money, two for the show, three to get ready and four to go! SPLASH. Chilly snow spill water. Brrrr. You slipped into the water at the wading rocks near the dock every chance you got. Its easy when I leave your mommy and daddy behind. They just can’t seem to focus enough on their children. This whine seems familiar. It is the very attitude that I had as a beginning preschool teacher in the 70’s. “If only these parents would…” I need to get more involved in this construction project, write a novel, get off this mountain. Something! No, because of you and your sister. Its your mommy that has to get off the mountain, find her life. She needs to leave the three of us alone for a few days a week. I keep telling her and she hopes to actually make that happen. It must. I am sure glad you go to Preschool a few days a week. I love seeing you there.
Tent’s a mess. Billions of flies. No sense of why they come, she says. I live here, too. No fly problem here. There’s so much teaching to do and daddy jokes, smiles, skillfully dodges hard conversations. Dang. Parenting a daddy is very hard work. I may need some help. Duh. I do need some help. I really miss my family-smart friends. I have got to stop my niggling and this nosey-body stuff. Get a life, Grandma.