24

There are many out there who remember the television series 24. We were so hooked on it that we used to have dinner parties with friends  at the beginning  and end of the season  so that the show became quite a huge tradition of watching this great show with close friends so that when we got together, it certainly gave us much more to talk about than the latest doctor visit. As you remember, each hour of 24 was marked with a tragic happening that could only be saved by one man…..Jack. Each hour was so jam packed with the CTU  task force trying to “rescue” certain folks or trying to figure out plots which would destroy the world. Well, this weekend was our own little 24 show. It has been a while since we babysit for a 4 year old for over a few hours. All I can say is that we are ready to call in Jack.  Each hour, I felt so lucky if I could come up with a chore that Noah could help with. His mom had told me that Noah loves to “help” so I thought of the chores which take me the longest, thinking that this might help me gain some time to cook (or even just brush my teeth.) if precious little Noah could go dust, water plants, or vacuum. maybe I could at least get the bed made or toast a piece of bread without having to go change the TV channel, turn on the bathroom light or come see  the 357th bird he was drawing. How can one four year old, drain you? By the end of our 24 hour assignment, I felt like I was my own CTU task force, but reinforcements nor Jack ever came.

On Friday evening we even considered going to both the 4 and 5:30 Good Friday service since the church was having the nursery open for kids 5 and under.

On Saturday, we broke a promise to ourselves that we had made years ago that we would  never, never go near another Chuck E Cheese, EVER! We stayed for 2 hours. Then at lunch, the cute little hostess at Chick Fila finally had the courage to come tell us that they needed our table after we had sat there for over an hour. We told her she had mistaken us for the people before us and that we had just arrived. Truth be told, we were still searching for Noah’s shoes in the play area that he had taken off  the minute we arrived and didn’t remember where he put them. I told Randy that I was not going to climb up the tunnel slide to retrieve the shoes!   This time it was his turn to do that. Besides, last time I got stuck and the  manager had to come rescue me from the tunnel.  That incident  reminded me of the slogan “a moment on the lips is forever on the hips” and why it should be my motto.

I love grandkids as much as the next Nana, but I’m thinking that we might have just discovered the idea behind Martin Luther King’s famous quote by the end of our 24 saga. As we drove away from dropping off precious little Noah (and yes, we did wait until his parents were home to do that although we were tempted at one point to just give him some Benadryl for a possible runny nose and sit him in front of a 4 hour movie at his house to wait for his parents to come home. Instead we bribed him with  Baskin Robbins every Saturday for the rest of his sweet angelic little life if he would just let us lay down for 15 minutes!), I looked over at Randy who “put the petal to the metal” as he began the famous speech, “free at last, free at last, thank God we are free at last.”  I just wonder how many grandkids MLK had kept the day before that famous speech?

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