Poor Papa

My dad just left after visiting for a couple of days. Poor Papa took a beating while he was here! We had been sitting down in the swing by the river in the few minutes after he had arrived. The entire time, F was literally pinging, off the swing, run around, scream really loudly just as she bounced into Papa's lap, then roll off onto the seat beside him...repeat. I'm sure it was a bit much to come from a quiet 8 hour car ride to a house full of just-got-home-from-school kids in the afternoon crunch time. Anyway, I didn't feel like cooking, so it was time to go in so we could ready ourselves for taking the darlings out into public for dinner. So as we're getting up to walk back to the house:

Me: Goodness, ya'll have got to take it easy on Papa - he's gonna be worn out before he even gets in the house!

F: YEAH, he's REALLY old!!!!! (then, during a full body contraction, a high-pitched squeal that called dogs into the yard from miles around, and full-speed run to the house)

Thank goodness he thinks this is funny.

My dad really enjoys these kids, and seems to get a really big kick out of everything "funny" that they do. From Mel walking the cat (firmly by the tail), to SJ's adult attitude (and questions like "why do you live alone?" and "why did you and Nana break up?"), to F's Fness - you know what I mean. He is so involved with them while he's here - he got Mel to eat at Steak n' Shake by telling him it was all monkey food. Of course, he shows up with, literally, a shopping bag full of mini candy bars and cookies, I guess to fuel the madness that entertains him.

It's always fun when he's here, because I can enjoy my life and its insane funniness through another's eyes.