Silly Jane

I totally thought an all day stint with Tarzan's grandfather would be like all the afternoons I spent with him in April and May, only longer.
Boy was I wrong.
First let's start with the fact that 7a.m. - exactly as early as that sounds for a person who hasn't had to get up at any particular time for over a year - does not actually start at 7a.m. for either me or GOM (the new acronym for Tarzan's grandfather) There's my neurosis where I wake up half a dozen times in the night to make sure that I didn't miss the alarm. WHAT is WITH that?! There's his neurosis, which one might call old age, after going to bed at 10 p.m., he wakes at 4, 5, 6, 6:10 and then 6:30. And he wants help right then because he doesn't always remember what that hour means to the rest of us. And there's Tarzan's neurosis that lets him get up at five - FIVE! - 5a.m. all year for school, but can't budge an inch at 7 with GOM yelling up the stairs that he needs a new diaper.
Did I mention that Tarzan is down here with me for the next three weeks? I thought having him with me would be a benefit. Two people, half the work, share the burden and all that. Right?
Not so. It's more like having to feed, monitor and entertain two small children with narcolepsy. Picture the look on my face when I walked into the room at 9am, after the debacle that was breakfast - apparently my eggs are much too dry and "the Cream of Wheat was 100 times too thick" - and found both of them laying back in their chairs, totally zonked out and drooling out of the corners of their mouths. If only I'd had my camera, everyone's money problems would be solved. So entertaining.
And they're sleeping again which is how I am able to type this now.

This is me, day one of twenty-one.