We’re on “vacation,” visiting my parents in Connecticut. The person who is truly on vacation – no-sarcastic-quotation-marks vacation – is my son. He has been getting whatever he wants at the hand of Grandma and Pop-pop – new movies, lots of TV, new toys, ice cream, willing playmates – and as a result, his behaviorRead more about Zombie Post: A Wolf in Grandma’s Clothing[…]
For the past few weeks, we were in the middle of a move, which is no picnic under the best circumstances and just about impossible with a toddler underfoot. So, in order to get everything done, we shipped the kid to his grandparents’.
It worked out well; we were able to pack up and relocate a lot more quickly, and no miniature humans were injured in the process. We even got to go to dinner once or twice without needing to wrangle a psycho into a highchair.
Little did we know that while we were taking care of business, our son was being turned against us.