7:00 pm Wednesday evening. Mr. CPA and I have both arrived home from our 10 hour workday and have taken delivery of the three G-kids who have been in Portland for the last week visiting their dad (otherwise known as the oldest son). Three of the five people in the room are overflowing with energy, the other two? Not so much.
The energetic people in the room have just floated several suggestions about what fun activities we should go and do RIGHT! NOW! All involve leaving the house and require much more energy and enthusiasm than either of the potential activity directors can muster at that particular moment.
Grandpa: Well, Grandma and I are pretty tired from being at work all day; maybe we can do some of that stuff tomorrow.
Oldest Grandson: What? You still work? But you’re OLD!!!
(Very Young) Grandma: How old do you think we are?
Oldest Grandson: At least 60!
(Very Young) Grandma: … ::blink, blink:: …*
Gee, thanks a lot kid. Stay tuned for your super special birthday gift next month.
That is, if I get a chance to go shopping for it before they come to take me off to the home.
* I suppose this is some sort of karmic payback for my 8 or 9 year-old self asking my grandmother what it was like coming over in the covered wagons. She was probably around 42 at the time and really didn’t care for being called Grandma in public (at one point she actually requested that I refer to her as ‘Auntie GiGi’ whenever anyone else was around). The fact that I can still clearly remember this incident over forty years later may give you some insight as to how she responded to that ‘I think you’re old enough to have been a pioneer’ question!