Talking over coffee, the realization hits that you miss the grandkids, and wish they could visit more often. Wouldn't it be nice if they could stay over. We have the room. Kids are cute, it would be great.
Then it happens. They're here. Six of them, and without mommy or daddy. Why do I have that deer in the headlights feeling?
Kids touch everything. Items placed on a table, held by the laws of gravity, suddenly move to strange, new, and unexpected places. Feeling the need to make the world their playground, and all objects in sight their personal toys.
In bursts of energy, chairs and other furniture are bounded over in a single leap, All that's missing is the red cape and spandex suit. objects are touched, and broken. Of course, it's always an accident, or somebody else's fault. Usually those annoying kids who I thought moved out years ago... Not-me, Nobody, Not-Mine, and the dreaded Idunno, are the culprits.
Kids, even older ones, put things in their mouths. They find things in nooks and crannies, or under tables, couches, and other dusty places just to see what they taste like. But just try to get them to eat their vegetables and see what happens. OK, actually, even vegetables are accepted more eagerly when served by grandma. She always has plenty of food to keep bellies full.
The smaller the kid, the stinkier they are. If you haven't been around them for a while, it's easy to forget the joys of that full diaper. Worse, the bag next to grandma's chair, where they're being collected before being put into the trash can. They actually should be stored in a hermetically sealed container, marked for hazardous waste. Smells multiply the more they sit untouched. All bundled up with their toxic contents brewing inside. It brings a tear to my eye, and a sinus headache, just thinking about it.
Toys get left in walkways, on the stairs, and places other than a toy box. Little ones seem to know when a door isn't quite fully latched, and make their escape to the big, beautiful world on the other side. Or get into rooms that were purposely shut off from the prying eyes of the tiny visitors.
Whining, picking on each other, constant noise, empty bellies, full diapers, bathroom accidents, sick babies who vomit through their nose, barely a change of clothes to last for a week long visit.
Then the final day, when parents come to the rescue.
There's just one thing. As much as we love you and enjoyed the visit, and now want to see you go... nobody is leaving this place until the mess is cleaned up.