Nature vs. Nurture

Add to the list of things that are (apparently) genetic.

Adding fuel to the fire of spring break insanity, my parents have taken all 4 boys (ages 2-8) for three days. The delightful 4boymom and I had a wonderful evening out last night, thank you very much.

Anyway, 3 of the 4 boys are sick, and the amount of medications being dispensed requires a spreadsheet. The boys are okay in general, and certainly well enough to visit their grandparents, but I think I've called about 5 times already.

When I called this morning to find out how (and where) everyone slept, I was surprised when my Dad answered the phone, "Hey Dad. I thought Mom was going to stay home this morning."
"Well, she's going to take them to the park later today, so she went in to open up the office and I stayed here with the boys for a while."

"Okay, I just wanted to make sure everything was all right."

"Yes, yes everything's fine."

In the background, the sounds of happy boys can be heard in a rising crecendo. I heard my Dad put his hand over the phone as he says to them, "Hang on guys, I'll be right there."

But no hand in the world could drown out Timothy and Stephen as they start yelling: "Gaga! It's your turn!" "That's Gaga's controller!" "We're waiting on you!"

That's right. My 59-year-old Dad played hookey from work to play Crash Team Racing with his grandsons. He's a good man.