Adventures with Geannii

   I got a phone call from my dear ninety-year-old mother-in-law. “Jeanne, I’ve been praying for you every night.” Me: “Oh, that is so sweet of you. I can always use prayers.” Mom: “Has Pam lost her mind?” Me: “WHAT? No! She lost her husband… not her mind.” (I had completely forgotten about the Christmas letter I sent out this year. I added it below.) Mom: “But she is trying to kill you. I’ve really been praying for you—now I know why.” Me: “WHAT? NO! WHAT??” Mom: “We got your Christmas card…” Me: “Mom! It was a joke! She wasn’t really trying to kill me. It was meant to be funny.” (I didn’t mention that it was actually all true. She would never understand.) Mom: “Oh good. I’ve been really worried you’d go back and visit her… with her trying to kill you like that.” Me (banging my head on the table): “No, Mom! It’s all good. It was just a joke. She did NOT try to kill me…”

I traded the soft Atlantic sand for the plush basement carpet, but the 'peace and quiet' I expected didn't quite make the trip home with me. Instead of crashing waves, I found myself watching Captain Chaos crash onto the sofa—literally.         Rob, my son-in-law is very entertaining, I’ve heard him described as a white Chris Rock, I can see it.  For instance, one morning, the youngest Grandson crawled up on dad’s lap. (Captain Chaos was 9 at the time.) Suddenly we had a ventriloquist.  Rob put his hand on the back of Captain Chaos neck and told him to just open and shut his mouth while Dad did the talking.      Entertainment with our coffee.      Bedtime, I am in the basement. (Yes, they keep Mema in the basement and toss her crumbs. Rob’s comment at one point.)