Grandparents can be evil bastards. Some are sweet, sure. But don't be fooled by the silver tinged hair. They are sadistic, selfish types - just waiting to exact their revenge on their kids, for the many years of grief we may or may not have given them when we were growing up.
YES...before you comment, Mum, I am referring to the time I tried smoking at the back of the local pub - just so I could hold fire. Also, the time I nearly blew myself up in the car because I was trying to use the in-car cigarette lighter, in the time it took you to run into a friend's house and drop something off. Also the time I lit my cubby house curtains on fire. Oh, and all of this may sound par for the course with a teenager - but I had done it all before I hit double digits. Mostly by age 8.
Have I sufficiently covered it yet?
Oh wait, also the time I woke in the middle of the night and decided to walk home from a sleepover and get into my own bed. Without telling anyone. At age 7 or 8.
Anyway, I figure that, as a result, my parents have saved up a lot of revenge. They've had many years to sit and seethe.
Sound a bit dramatic? A bit 'conspiracy theory'? Perhaps.
Today, my Dad - AKA #1 Pop - walked in the door with a bag of marshmallows and a bag of RED lolly snakes. Not just lolly snakes, RED ones. Evil genius.
He then grabbed plates for the 2yr old twin tornado, so he could load them up with both. So, not just a couple of lollies - we're talking entire kiddy plates full. Which he then refilled.
Straight after that, he said goodbye - and retreated to the safety of my brother's place next door, so he could read the paper in peace.
I am now typing this - venting to you - while I seethe and watch the twins' sugar high escalate.
As I type, Mstr2 is jumping on the outside of the trampoline. Outside the safety netting. Whacking the netting, his sister, the hanging basket plants - and anything else he can reach - with a pink feather covered princess wand in one hand, and a wooden kids' sized cricket bat in the other hand. Know which one I'd prefer to be whacked with...
Miss2 is running the length of the backyard, ripping flowers out as she goes. She is laughing maniacally. When she gets to the end of the backyard, she screams at the sandpit. A lot. Very loudly. Then she does it all again.
I can hear #1 Pop laughing from over the fence, as I yell in my own maniacal way to try and resume some sort of order.
I'm telling you - the place looks like a Thailand "Full Moon Party", and the twins have clearly OD'ed on the sugar.
In future, I'm going to have to frisk my father before he crosses the threshold of the front door.