Last night I was out visiting my daughter and grandsons at their OTHER grandparents' house. My daughter was frantically trying to pack everybody's Christmas haul into the same suitcases that brought their absolutely necessary items when they came back in mid-December.
My mission was to occupy the little boys so that their Mom could focus. So, I draped a blanket over my head and proceeded to make monster sounds, while walking Frankenstein-like around the room "looking" for dinner. The squeals of those two kids were like angels singing (to me anyway). We soon forgot about the blanket and just chased each other around the entire upstairs. This is particularly fun since there's a jack-and-jill bathroom between two of the bedrooms and all those doors make for great hiding places to spring out and catch unsuspecting kids.
When the take-out dinner arrived, we all arranged ourselves around the television to watch video from the boys' respective school Christmas programs. Adorable, of course.
Next it was bath time. This is an easy job nowadays because both boys are perfectly capable of cleaning themselves (and do). Last night Ben (5 yr-old) regaled me with a fascinating story about two bad guys who travel to the North Pole, find a door under the North Pole Ocean, hidden under the sand and travel through the door down a very long dark tunnel (so dark they had to use their special eyes to see -- plus, they brought candles) and finally they found Santa's Toy Workshop, where they commenced to destroy everything and everyone -- all the elves and even Santa. (If you're shocked at this, you haven't been around little boys lately, have you -- and no, this is not a sexist comment.)
I made the assertion that Santa has an "invisible" cloak and he covered up himself, the elves and the reindeer and got away -- but Ben assured me that the bad guys' special eyes could even see through "unvisible" cloaks.
He then told me about how they used their light sabers to cut Santa in half, and took his bones with them and made a droid out of Santa. (As in, "these are not the droids you are looking for.")
After the traditional 5 minute count down, both boys were out of the bathtub, in their pj's and reading Thomas the Tank Engine. Liam was really about to fall asleep, but Ben was wired. Their Mom came in to cuddle (till they go to sleep) so I began my good-nights. The little boys don't grasp that this is the last time we'll be seeing each other for awhile, and I don't try to force it on them. I just gave each a little kiss and said goodbye.
My daughter and I said goodbye downstairs and I left. I was halfway down the sidewalk when I hear "good-bye!!!!" and turn to see Ben in the doorway -- jumping up and down saying good-bye. I ran back to him and he literally jumped into my arms -- just like a freakin' movie. Of course, Liam roused himself to join in, too, so we had a "personal" hug (that's what Ben calls really good hugs) before I went home.
Today I'm on the verge of tears -- and especially enjoying the tear-jerker posts I'm reading today ('cause I can't bring myself to cry about them being gone for a few hours, but I really feel like crying about it).
I'll just go home and watch a sad movie on Netflix and get it all out of my system.