Gran Conscription

Yesterday, Lisa had volunteered to watch two of the grans at their home while Georgie and the third gran went to a dental appointment. Then later, all 3 grans when G went to a parent teacher conference.

Since Lisa’s Acura won’t be repaired until October 30th, I needed to drop her at their home. That was perfect. I had planned to locate a second HP printer I had stored in the garage and see if I could get it on-line as part of the home ethernet so that I could use it as a back up printer from my desk top computer and Lisa could print whatever she wanted from her phone. I also wanted to get my office printer back on line.

Well, I managed to pull off the impossible for this Luddite and get the second printer up and running from all points in the house and set it up in Lisa’s office so that when I finish a new chapter I can just send it there for her to read. Voila! Works beautifully.

I’ll never have to leave my lair again.

Also, the grans love to print shit on my computer when they are here and now thay can do it from their gadgets up on the first floor without disturbing The Dude – or as they informed me yesterday – Der Typ – as Scarlett has developed an interest in German.

I wasn’t quite as lucky with my own work horse printer in my office. I believe I may have gotten it back on-line.

But was then informed that I needed new ink cartridges.

So I ordered a set of XLs cartridges on Amazon, which should arrive today. I also ordered a set for the new printer upstairs, since those will be depleted quickly by the raiding and pillaging grans. But with those two projects taken as far as I could, I was all ready to settle into my recliner and watch some BBC show with sub titles. Peace at last.

Then my cell phone rang.

“The girls want pizza. Cheese and Pesto.”

I soooooo wanted to respond, “So?!”

After all, Lisa could have called a local Longmont pizzaria and had them deliver it.

But noooooooo . . . . .

Instead, I bit my tongue – I wanted to remind Lisa why we are temporarily without her second car – but instead sullenly hung up and placed the order with Berthoud Pizza – and excellent and delicious NY-ish form of the wonderful dish – assuming you are living on Mars and this will be as good as it gets. Forty minutes later I appeared at their front door – wondering if I should just ring the bell, leave it and drive away.

It was a fool’s daydream. I knew my day was over.

Lisa appeared at the door looking tired. And just a touch evil.

I could hear the urchins hollering from inside like Banshees in training.

“What time do you want me to pick you up?” I asked, innocently and quite sincerely.

“You’re not going anywhere.” She stated in a creepy monotone as she stepped back to compel me to enter through those gates of hell.

“Take the pizza to the kitchen.”

I really considered making the argument right there on the stoop that it was she that volunteered to babysit. Indeed, she made that commitment BEFORE I retired.

“Der Typ! Der Typ!” the changelings cried from behind her. “Pizza, Pizza!”

I was fucked. My first day free of legal work and Lisa work dissolved before me. No rest for the wicked.

“I told Georgie you would help with their Halloween decorations.”

It was futile to resist. They need a sign over their doorway – Hic sunt dracones!

Well, after a lovely lunch of warm cheese and tomato sauce on flat bread, I was assigned She-Hulk Stella duty in the backyard while Savanna and Lisa engaged in Aerial Silk workouts in the living room.

Luckily, there was a comfortable chair out there so most of the time was responding to “Watch me” commands as the wild child threw herself off all of the obstacle course objects my Son has them training on.

If I started to dose, I was quickly rebuked by a blow about the head, which snapped me right back into reality. I was hoping each one would grant my passage across the veil. Alas, I have a McCaffrey skull that has sustained blows for six decades that would have killed most men.

Stella is like a female praying mantis. All of her future beaus are destined for a beheading.

Anyway, after a while, Lisa told me it was time to switch, and Savanna, a spooky old soul who bears a distinct resemblance to Wednesday Addams, and the personality to match, took me out front and supervised while I set up the Halloween decorations.

She was fittingly wearing her K-Pop Demon Hunter outfit.

But I loved engaging in deep conversations about why the middle evil girl in the Toy Box bears a startling resemblance to Savanna.

And how Rocking Rosie could be Stella’s twin.

I must be sure to find some other haunting animatronics to add to their collection. They are off to a good start.

Luke has a Nasferatu lifesize image that he places above their doorway.

Kind of looks like Luke when he’s pissed off.

Anyway, I wasn’t climbing any ladders so that the little witches could dance around my fallen carcass, so I told them that Nesferatu was their Daddy’s favorite and that I didn’t want to steal his joy. Being the ultimate Daddy’s Girls, they accepted the deflexion without challenge.

Anyway, upon Scarlett’s return very excited over the lingering dose of “laughing gas” which surprisingly “didn’t make me laugh,” but made her “feel real good,” I prebooked a spot for her at the Betty Ford Clinic and spent the rest of the afternoon draining the battery of my iPhone playing K-Pop Demon Hunter songs while all three girls performed extremely advanced choreographed dance routines while lipsinking to the music.

There was a moment when I must have dozed off on the couch because I awoke to find the imp Stella, painting my fingernails. Luckily, she had only gotten three done.

Anyway, Georgie was meant to return immediately from a parent teacher session for Stella at the Farm School my four year old gran-witch attends – https://www.sunflowerfarminfo.com/

“Well, Mrs. McCaffrey, Stella has demontrated preternatural strength by tossing hay bales across fields at angry yet nimble farm workers and a natural affinity to snapping the necks of the chickens.”

However, Georgie, with a sudden realization that her apron strings had been severed, then unexpectedly detoured to run other errands knowing we were being held in a Gran Hostage situation.

It wasn’t until I sent a text threatening to light myself on fire in the back yard – much to the glee of the grans – “Will he really do it, Nona?!” – “Maybe, we’ll see. Go collect some kindling.” – that Georgie returned and released us from our sacred Granparent bonds.

Cue Radiohead –

I’m going to apply for a job at Amazon.

Anyway, for you fine, five readers, Magical Friday is upon us. Sneak in the office and make sure someone spots you looking quite focused at your desk before you slip out the side door and start your weekend.

I have some errands to take care of and I’m not answering the phone.

But no matter what else we get up to, let us make today a great one.