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.