Laurel, still wet from her most recent swim
Recently, we were delighted to have of our grandchildren, Robert, 4, and Laurel, 6, for three days and nights while their parents enjoyed a well-deserved mini vacation.
Our son, Ryan, and his wife, Shelly, were hiking in Oregon, on the other side of the country, about as far away from Florida as they could be, three time zones to the west. We were footloose and fancy free!
While they were at Nana’s house, Robert ate just one serving of vegetables, Laurel ate two juice pops in one afternoon, ice cream was considered a dairy food and their whims for new embroidered shirts (Toy Story, Wiggles, etc.) were lovingly indulged. We stayed up late watching Toy Story, slept late in the morning, lounged in the pool and picnicked at the park.  We had a big time.
On our last night with the children, we had planned a bonfire and marshmallow roast, as soon as we finished watching another Disney movie. At 8:30 p.m., before the movie’s conclusion and 15 minutes past their regular bed time, the parents called, surprised that the children were still up, giggling and bouncing around.
With neither regard nor awareness of the violations we were committing, the children prattled on to their parents about our plans for the rest of the evening.
Busted!
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