Five Days/Six Nights

Five days, six nights:  that's how long the Plumski grandchildren, Harrison, Anne and Mira, were in the house.  I learned stuff.  Tom asked Harrison if he wanted to go to the BYU football game and he grunted, "Not really.  I'm not into football."  

"You are so Charles," I said.

"You want to know what my dad says?"

I rolled my eyes, because I knew it would be salacious.

Harrison said, "Why would you want to watch a football game?  It's just a bunch of guys rolling in the grass playing with each other."

Okay, I am the mother of that remark, so of course I laughed.

Tom went to the game with the Bracys.

Anne helped Harrison learn the U.S. capitol cities by giving what Tom and I thought were impossible pneumonic devices something like "connect the heart" for Hartford, Connecticut.  Although I didn't do much better:  "Providence, Rhode Island is a gay enclave," I said.  "Oh no, sorry, that's Provincetown, Massachusetts."  I thought Fargo was the capitol of South Dakota.  Fargo is in North Dakota and it's not the capitol, but it's a really good movie!  I think Harrison finally did master the list after Tom made him list the states on one side of the sheet with their capitols on the other side and fold the paper in half.

Mira has filled the front walk with chalk art including a full-length portrait of me in my pink and white striped shirt.  She fed the ducks and got nipped on the back of the legs a couple of times.  She can now play 93% of the notes on Guitar Hero.  We bought sparkly Hannah Montana Sunday shoes (Samantha would have approved) that created a blister.  She served Tom and me lunch on the patio (water, bread, butter, peanut butter and honey).  She can whistle.  And she can do a mean forward roll but doesn't really get cartwheels yet. 

Anne has guys texting her all hours of the day and night.  ("Are you mad at me?")

Five Days/Six Nights:  fabulous!