Today, we get to visit the grandparents! My son is blessed with seven grandparents (the legacy of divorces and re marriages on both sides of the family) and he lives to visit them all. Unfortunately, they all live in California, and we do not, so he sees them infrequently. Over the last couple of weeks, he has been remembering that he spent last year’s Spring Break at “Camp Gramma” with Papa Frank and Gramma Linda. He idolizes Papa Frank because he owns a tractor AND a Dodge pickup truck (in red, no less!), so he has been asking when he gets to see this particular set of grandparents again. Last week, we did a big reveal: a much delayed trip (due to this winter’s appalling weather in Oregon and Northern California) was finally going to happen, and we would meet Papa and Gramma about 50 miles from our home.
Today was the day. We knew we would leave at about 3:30, because my husband is NOT on Spring Break and had meetings to go to before slippomg out early. (He is self-employed and has a very strict boss.) By 10am, our boy could not take much more. I told him we were not leaving until a few hours after lunch, so he volunteered to eat lunch right then. By 12:30, with lunch over and Dad off at his meeting, he began to pack for himself. After a while, he had amassed about 10 Hot Wheels, 4 sections of Hot Wheels track, four picture books he likes and the chapter book that I am reading to him, four carefully curated ziplock bags of LEGO parts, a book the he wrote called The Cat Who Made the Moon, two pictures that he drew, his sketchbook, his box of colored pencils, his tractor blanket, 4 stuffed cats, Blue Blankie and Gar. I told him we would only be gone overnight, so he cut down his shoe collection to the hiking boots he was wearing and his high tops (red Chuck Taylors with his name and a picture of a cat on the side). No clothes. That’s what moms are for, right? He then put on his sweatshirt, buckled his backpack straps across his chest, and proceeded to vibrate. For three hours.
When my husband got home from his meeting, he ran outside to meet his Dad and buckled himself into the car seat to wait. The fact that the grown-ups were not ready was irrelevant. We needed to get our acts together and get this show on the road!
Once we were finally on the road for our hour long trip, he continued to vibrate and helpfully repeated all the instructions from the GPS, in case we were not paying attention. At last, AT LAST, we got to the hotel, and there was Papa Frank, waving from the balcony, with Gramma Linda in the door behind him.
Miles broke from us and ran for his grandparents. I have never seen three happier people.