Thursdays

On Thursdays, one will find me flat out on the couch with eye patches and a cold ice tea.  I will be exhausted and may not answer the phone.  One would have to be a blood relative or someone I love for me to answer the phone or the door.

Watch out!  There's a foot coming...

The reason will be that I spent the day before with my two granddaughters, Bright Eyes and Sunshine, on Wednesday.  Both are in school now and amazingly enough, that’s the reason I am about as energetic as a smashed snail on Thursdays.

Sunshine is in kindergarten now and filled with joy, laughter, and an amazing collection of information, both educational and personal.  I pick her up at 1:50 pm, and we walk about 10 miles from her classroom, across the griddle called the ‘parking lot’, and to my car.  When Sunshine used a car seat, she could buckle up and be ready to go before I shut her door. 

Now, she uses a ‘booster’, which requires me to pull the shoulder harness across her, find the buckle in the backseat, and click it. She can do this in Mommy’s van.  

The problem is that our Saturn Aura has back doors that give minimum swing and has hide-and-seek buckles.  

 In order to secure my precious cargo, I have to virtually crawl into the back to find the buckle, grip it with my arthritic hands, and force the buckle in.  My rear end is hanging out the door, and soon I find it hard to breath.  “You okay, Grandma?”  Oh yeah, honey, I am just fine.

Then we go to Target for 45 minutes. My darling girl can unbuckle in 2 seconds flat, and we walk about 3 miles across the Target parking lot.  Sunshine knows every inch of this store, and she takes me to see those inches.  When our time is up, we head back to her school to pick up Bright Eyes at 2:50.  All the above gets repeated.

All told, I have buckled the girls six times, walked about thirty miles in desert heat, and am having a massive hot flash. 

 

Then we drive to pick up Grandpa, who works about three hundred miles across a desolate desert.  We unbuckle, go into his work where the girls initiate a search for candy on all the co-workers’ desks.  

 My husband does not understand why I am flushed and grumpy.  He smiles and tries to bluff me with good natured banter, but I do not respond.

I do the buckle in routine again, and we always drive to either McDonald's or Dairy Queen.  The girls get ice cream cones, I ask for a blended Margarita, and everyone just laughs.  Silly grandma.

The rest of the time with my girls is wonderful.  We do homework, color pictures, tell stories, watch a feel-good older Disney movie, and the girls sit on my lap.  That is what I live for all day:  to hold them and hear what they have to say.

Do not call me on Thursday.  I will be busy.  Please note: I do not drink, but sometimes it sounds good.