Camp Grandad: The Rainy Week

If there is one thing we’ve learned about Camp Grandad (yes, we’re minimalists–able to run it with only one “d”!) it is to expect the unexpected.

Like a week of drenching rains.

The three little guys and their mom are staying in an apartment on the beach for six weeks, with their dad coming on weekends.  The boys are come daily to the beach-house-not-on-the-beach for swim team practice and golf lessons with Grandad, as well as impromptu baseball, soccer, rugby, shark tag, and other games with the friends they’re already made here.  Usually, at least one of the chaps spends the night with us.

Our only camper-in-residence full-time is their dog, Ivy.  Miss Piggy has resigned herself to tolerating her niece,  but is still having to work on her sociability skills, especially in matters of food.

Speaking of food, Dearly Beloved and I have three kids–all excellent cooks–whose  dietary habits bear little resemblance to the food of their childhood.  One is concerned with fats and portion control to the extent that I pack emergency food rations for clandestine bedroom snacking during our visits.  The second packs his own snacks for visits to us since he’s into acai, pomegranate juice, and power shakes.

The third, who not long ago sold her grain-grinding bread machine in order to buy an equally fancy juicer when she decided on a vegan lifestyle for her family, advises that she is now leaning instead toward a paleo diet for both her family and her pets.  I’ve not read about the diet , but judging by the root word, I think that Dearly Beloved should head out to hunt and gather.

However, Daughter simply specified “no high-fructose corn syrup” and “no screens,”  for her merry men.  I asked her to repeat that second part three times–I wasn’t even sure I was hearing right, since I didn’t know what “no screens” meant.  A week of rain with three energetic boys around made me a fast learner:  no computers, iPads, iPods,  or iTouches.  No TV.   I’d thought she’d said, “No screams.”  Definitely not the case.

By Day 2, we had checked two dozen books out of the library.   Granddad (aka “Gwandad”) and I were sitting in the sunroom with youngest grandson one evening as  I read aloud one of Beverly Cleary’s “chapter books”  in my best, most expressive voice.  My hopes that the little chap would enjoy it as much as his mother had were dashed when he interrupted,  asking, “Does anybody want to see my armpits?”

The times, they are a chaingin’.  

By Day 3, the older two were looking for some high-flying action.

Looks like some things never change after all.

Do you think the printer will still accept that paper?

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6 thoughts on “Camp Grandad: The Rainy Week

  1. CW

    I wanna a picture of the little buggah’s armpits!!! LOLOLOLOLOLOLOL……… Those are the coolest chairs EVAHHHHHHH!!! :):):) such great summertime memories for those kids!! :):)

  2. The food requests are my worse nightmare. Froot Loops, rootbeer floats, hotdogs and hamburgers at my house. Lucky Charms for variety. Special orders upset my parents :-D. However, arm pits, and paper airplanes are very cool! Sounds like you are having the best of times!

  3. Enjoy the company! Treasure every minute. When they get older, not as much visiting. I remember those lovely times at our cabin on the lake in Michigan surrounded by family and friends.

  4. My sympathies!
    No screens during a spell of rainy weather? That’s really asking a lot of grandma and grandad. I’d negotiate an hour off for myself three times a day with ma. When do you nap?

    You’re lucky your children go in for food fads, ours all have different intolerances and between them there’s nothing they can all eat.

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