shout out to the grandparents

the other evening, after we ate dinner with my parents, my dad was driving me and the kids home (...matt had abandoned us earlier for some nerd show on syfy, and the kids weren't quite ready to leave popi and babi's house). of course, as soon as the kids got in the car, they started their ridiculous fighting over who got to put their hand on the center console cushion in the back seat. "his hand's touching mine." "ella won't move her haaaand." over and over. wawawawaaaaa. my good gracious! i told them, "get your stinking hands off the cushion thing and mind your business! i don't want to hear anymore of this nonsense and the next one to make a peep loses a book!" (this is my constant threat.... taking away from the 3 books they each get us to read every evening.)

exasperated, i looked over at my dad, who by this point is nearly gasping for air from the lack of oxygen all of his laughing at my adversity has caused. "what!" i demanded. "ahahahahaha. this is awesome!" he told me. then he reminded me that they got a stationwagon when we (me, kent, and john wesley) were little because they were D-O-N-E with the incessant bickering over who crossed which line, who wiped a booger on whom, whose leg touched another's.... gaaaah.

alright. i get it. i deserve it. it's penance. the time has come for me to atone for my past obnoxious deeds.

it's also time for me to acknowledge that my parents did a heck of a job raising me and my goofy brothers and to recognize matt's parents for all the work they put into raising matt and katie. (i'd also state that you all...both sets...still have some unfinished business...;) ha!)

and if you don't already know it, all four of you hung the moon for ella and summit. they love you guys more than anything. and whenever our kids lose all of their books or have to go to time out, they call for you all, all of you, at once: "leenie papa babi popi babi popi leenie papa." it's like you're all one person. one person who will come in and save the day... rescue the poor, destitute children from their awful, mean, snarling parents. when we are the fire-breathing dragons, you are the knights on horses. when we are the evil stepsisters, you are the fairy godmothers.

and you're more than that. you're the extra cookies and the breakfast cake. the late-night movies and the early, early, early saturday mornings. the treats from the store and the patient hand to put the little pieces together. you're the narrators to countless books (more than 3) and the leaders of songs sung a bajillion times in a row. the horsies on the floor for rambunctious riders and the soft, warm snugglers who give up the best pillows (i know their mommy won't do this). you are love and kindness and gentleness and sympathy and encouragement.

they love you and we love you.

 

thank you.