When our George was nearly a toddler, Genna's parents offered to keep him for a weekend so we could get a break from this new overtime job we created. Genna, when preparing for any kind of event, is very methodical and thorough. Every one has a check list like a moonshot by NASA, and the list seems to grow each time she checks an item off while I, in this case, load the car. In essence, it's hard to distinguish the packing for a two day trip from that of a month. George, being the only grandchild on both sides of the family, was too overloaded with 'stuff', as George Carlin used to say.
Into the SUV went George's clothes, crib, riding toys, throwing toys, puzzle toys, food, etc, to the point if we wanted to pack a sugar cube, it would have to stay home because it wouldn't fit.
There George sat back in his car seat in his short pant suit with white knee high socks, white and black saddle shoes, inspector gadget rain hat, and electric blue sunglasses. I don't think King Farouk had it any better than this kid. Off we started from Glen Rock to Englewood Cliffs, NJ praising the side view mirrors all the way.
We pulled into the driveway just in time for Genna's parents to appear along side the car, open the back door before I could put the car in park, yank George out of his seat restraint, and disappear into the house.
We sat in the car staring at each other for a few minutes, and realized they were not coming back out to help unload the car. Adding to the fun was the main living area of the house was on the second floor, with the garage underneath, so all this shit (my bad 'stuff') had to be schlepped upstairs, and we'd get to do it all over again in two days.
I don't even remember what we did in those two days; just that we were exhausted from getting him there,and bringing him back home, and George doesn't even remember the weekend.
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