My middle daughter called me yesterday. Would I mind picking up her munchkin, she and her husband were meeting her doctor to check out her unborn. She was having some contractions, and after the difficult pregnancy last time, she wanted to make sure everything was all right. (And it was).
So off I go to get Jackson. I get to daycare, he acknowledges that I'm there, and continues playing. When his caretaker told him, I was there to get him, he questioned me. He is not yet 3 years old! Where is mommy, she is picking him up. No, mommy can't come. Where is daddy? Daddy is with mommy and they asked me to get him. Only then did he agree to go with me.
He showed me where his things were, and as we were getting in the car, he wanted to know if we were picking up the cousins. No, not this time!
We went to his house, and played with the dog. That is, I tried throwing things to the dog, but he wanted to hold them all. Ball, stick, didn't matter. Then we dug in the garden. The rhubarb is coming up nicely, the strawberry plants are still alive, and the sage and thyme are coming back.
Then came the parents, and the other grandma, and we ate together. Pork chops on the grill, potatoes wrapped in aluminum foil, spinach and broccoli. And strawberries and cream for dessert. Good!
Would you believe, I forgot to say good-bye to him? I felt so bad! I must have thought he'd gone to bed, I can't think of another explanation. He called me, and we said bye, byes on the phone.