On vacay

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Am on vacay at the #1Grandparents' house.

Sounds delightfully relaxing, yes?

What it actually means is that I am busy running interference.

So many lollies.

So much fizzy, sugary drink.

All of the chocolates.

Every biscuit ever coated in chocolate and whacked in a packet.

Now I know how Border Security staff feel.

It is exhausting going through every nook and cranny looking for hidden stashes of contraband.

Patting down The Feral Threesome multiple times a day.

Listening for that knowing rustle of lolly wrapper, wedged somewhere in their undies because they are used to emptying their pockets for inspection.

Upon arrival, a few days ago, I was everyone's favourite person - providing the beloved Grandkids for a visit with their equally beloved #1Nana and #1Pop.

Now I am the anti-Christ.

A sugar hating, chocolate confiscating kill joy.

If I fail to blog again, send shovels and the CSI crew to the #1Grandparents' house.

I will likely be buried next to the cat.

He got a cross (doubt I will), so I shouldn't be too hard to locate.

I don't anticipate any resistance from the murderous traitors, as they'll all be in sugar comas.

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