We’re back safe and sound from Vegas after an incredible trip. It really is great to have a kid to come home to, because the sadness of vacation endings is now mitigated by the almost irrational excitement to get back home to our boy.
Unfortunately, Grandma has had an opposite reaction. She had been eagerly anticipating and planning for her long weekend with Toby for ages and when it ended, it just ended. Although I’m sure she’s glad to have a few minutes to herself, she’s going through a bit of her own Toby withdrawal. The feeling is mutual; Toby keeps asking where Grandma is and telling us stories and “inside jokes” (or so we assume they are…) from his visit with her.
I didn’t realize how much he was missing her until today when I pointed out to him that there was a groundhog outside.
It was just a passing statement, as groundhog sightings usually are, but Toby LEPT up from his playdoh and RACED to the window throwing his arms in the air and jumping up and down to see.
A few minutes later after staring disappointedly at the measly little creature scurrying through the yard he threw his arms up in despair and asked,
“Where’s GRANDMA???”
I never knew that the word “groundhog” could sound like “grandma”, but apparently it does. No matter how many times I explained to him the difference between the two, hours later he was still periodically racing over to the big window to look for her and repeatedly breaking my heart with his pitiful disappointment and questioning WHY I had told him that his “grandma” was outside when in fact, she wasn’t.
And so I’m getting guilt trips from both ends. We may just have to go back to Vegas again sometime soon to appease both the kid and the “groundhog”.
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