So today I post about her lovely grandchildren who I have the happiness of tending twice a week. Because they are adorable and fun. And then they go home before they get grumpy. I can really understand why grandma's love grandkids. But I'm not ready for any quite yet, because I'm not REALLY REALLY old like my sister yet...
So Pedro and Gabbie were visiting this week, and Gabbie got out her favorite toy. You know how it works: the favorite toy must be the LOUDEST and MOST DIFFICULT TO USE FOR HER AGE and HAS THE MOST SMALL PIECES IMAGINABLE SO THEY CAN BE MISPLACED AND/OR PAINFULLY TRODDEN ON.
For Gabbie, it's the marble drop.
If I had to describe it, I would have to say it's something like Chinese water torture. The marbles keep dropping. and dropping. and dropping. Endlessly. In this one instance, the attention span of a two year-old is 72 hours straight. She never tires of it. Ocassionally, she will put in too many marbles at a time and they get jammed up in the intersections. And then she gets mad. Really mad. Like this device is deliberatly conspiring to deny her her rightful entertainment and joy. I must say that my favorite part is when they get jammed, because the endless dropping ceases for a moment...
Somehow, there are always a few marbles that escape when it's time to clean up. The easiest way to find them is to just walk across the room as if you were a normal person with nothing to fear from your carpet. It hurts a bit (especially if you have advanced artrhitis like me) to step on a marble. Especially if you're not expecting it (although why you would step on a marble on purpose I cannot imagine). So I blew a gasket at Eclair (because I have delegated all Gabbie-cleaning-up-after to her) and told her to round up all the marbles so I wouldn't keep stepping on them! When I came back in the room, this is what I found:
Who knew she would take "rounding up the marbles" so literally.