A year and a half ago, the Crane clan had a batch of babies. I'm now a grandfather to a boy, a step grandfather to a boy and a great uncle to two girls. I've got stories about all of them, like any proud grandfather (aka "PopPop") would have but this is not the time. I would like to talk about the one outcome I was a part of that frankly has nearly killed me.
I don't know exactly when or how, but apparently, while in a state of new grandfather bliss, I mumbled something about volunteering to watch my step grandson two days a week, when mom returned to work. Last June I began the job. It's been nearly a year, and I'm seriously thinking of going back to corporate work. It would be easier. Watching a youngin' is back breaking, mind numbing work at my age.
The only thing that has saved me is the COVID-19. I don't have it. It's just that mom and dad have been working from home since March. I only do four hour, two days a week and what a difference. Those two nine hour days were killers. Every night when I would go to bed, all I heard in my head was that song, that Baby Shark song! Oh the pain!
And this is why I don't think people should go back to work until my wonderful step grandson is in nursery school. Maybe two or three years away max. It's selfish, I know, but is truly is a matter of life and death.
No comments:
Post a Comment