Our little family just returned from a quick trip south. My husband G. Grod’s elderly grandmother is declining and confined to bed. We wanted to see her again, and to have her see our boys, 8 and nearly 6, so we finagled last-minute flights.
She said, “Why is everybody comin’ to see me? I’m not goin’ anywhere!”
There was a constant stream of visitors, relatives, and food. The boys did get to see her, though young Guppy was acting up, I suspect out of an inability to grasp what was going on. 8yo Drake, though, was happy to go in, see her and chat for a bit.
There’s not a lot to do in rural SC, and no other kids to play with, so we let the boys have free rein with the Gameboy, Angry Birds and other handheld games. They ate fried chicken several times, dessert after every meal, white-bread sandwiches, and were allowed Coke on the flight home. They seemed a little delirious with their good fortune and the uncharacteristic laissez-faire parenting. I wonder if later in life they’ll make the connection between what was happening and why they were given so much freedom.