The Minnesota Farm Woman

It was Camp Grandma this weekend, and Grandma needs a nap. Four-year-olds are easier to babysit than three-year-olds, I must admit. They like ice cream and reading books  and watching cartoons.  Although they are capable of reasonable thinking, it is sometimes futile to try to reason with them.  That isn’t what made me tired, though. It wasn’t the dozens of books we read,  (actually, it was the same five books we read over and over and over again), or the hours of pretending and role playing. I am tired due to lack of sleep. I stayed at my daughter’s house rather than mine so the dogs could be taken care of as well.   Plain and simply said, four-year-olds hog the bed. Max wanted to sleep with me, and I agreed, since of course, we grandmas agree to almost anything. It was fun to read stories and watch Tom and Jerry cartoons, which haven’t changed since I was a kid more than 50 years ago. As he slept, my favorite four-year-old kept scooting over in his sleep  until I had about four inches to spare before falling out. I got up and scooted him back, praying that he wouldn’t awaken. Two hours later, and two hours after that, it was the same thing. The next night, I was smarter, or so I thought. I started wayyyy over on his side of the bed. I read him five books. (Yes, the same five that I now know by heart.) His eyes got heavier and heavier.  So did mine, as a matter of fact. If you remember from reading a couple of previous stories, there is always a little drama when I stay at my daughter’s house. Once, the lights in the basement kept going off and on, seemingly at random. That mystery was solved. Another time, we had the  biggest storm of the summer, with the electric going off for hours, and we told stories in the dark. When Max was sound asleep, and I not far behind him, we were joined in the bed by a large yellow lab. Both dogs have comfortable padded beds on the floor, and I’m sure this was not allowed, but it can be as futile reasoning with a yellow lab as it is reasoning with a four year old boy.  Thankfully, it was just one of the labs and not both.  I shooed him off a couple of times, but finally gave up due to my lack of sleep from the night before. I was awakened again, this time by the sound and light of the TV from the living room and from being cold. Freezing cold, in fact. In typical Minnesota summer style, the tempereatures were hovering around 50 degrees during the night, and not too much higher than that in the day. I was thankful that Camp Grandma was inside and not outside in a tent.  Both Max and the dog had stolen the covers, scooted over, and left me again with about four frigid inches to spare. Certain that I had turned the TV off before we went to bed, I got up to investigate. I was not in the least bit afraid, as the dogs hadn’t uttered a peep, but it was rather strange anyway. I quickly figured out that the remote, which has so many buttons that an old grandma can barely figure it out,  was layed on in just the right spot by the other lab, who must have assumed that since there was no room in the bed, the couch would be the next best option. Tonight, when I get to our quiet little home, I  will turn on my electric mattress pad and have room to spare in the queen-sized bed. I am pretty certain, though, that even though it will be warmer, it will be a lot more lonely without Tom and Jerry, a large yellow lab, and my favorite four-year-old saying, “Read it again, Grandma, read it again!”