Summer 2015…13 days down

13 days down; 41 days to go. Day 27 is the halfway mark. Not sure of the exact hour. Probably around 11:00. Not that I’m counting or anything.

So far we’ve been bowling, to the library, swimming, and to a BMX pro show at the Food Truck Rodeo where I spent $21 in Italian Ice because I did not want to have a kid admitted to the ER for heat stroke on my watch. What happens to them after I leave, is not my concern. Okay, maybe a little. Okay…I’d be right there with them pacing in the ER but as a grandmother, not the nanny.

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Just some random dialog heard so far, 13 days in. Not that I’m counting or anything.

Emma: (screaming) We have a bleeder! We have a bleeder!

  • Aiden was running in the house—which he wasn’t supposed to so—and caught under his eye/upper cheek bone on the corner of the table. Thinking he’d get in trouble for running, he ran into the living room, bleeding pretty good. High adrenaline, sweaty, facial area + sharp corner of table = lots of blood, but little damage.

Paisley: (to Aiden) Do you ever shutup?

  • You’re wise beyond your years, Paisley. But always remember, unless they’re asleep, you should always, always investigate when they get too quiet.

Ivy: (when asked what she wants for lunch) Macaroni & Cheese

  • So you fix mac & cheese. Then she says she doesn’t want mac & cheese. She wants cereal. So you fix her cereal. Then she doesn’t want that kind of cereal, she wanted the other kind. While your eye is twitching and you step outside in 98 degree heat to take a deep breath, she magically eats the mac & cheese.

Casey: (said with a half smile) Hey grandma.

  • I can only see half of his smile because that’s all the previously closed—now open bathroom door will allow me to see as my foot is blocking him from opening it more while he peers through the crack while I’m sitting on the toilet.

Ireland: (shrieking in eardrum splitting decibels) Bug! Bug! BUG!

  • It was a fly.

Ava: (asked with the slightest bit of upturned lip) Are we going to do anything today? Like, fun?

41 days to go. Not that I’m counting.