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“I’m worried about them.” My daughter was visiting her sister, who had just delivered her second child. “I don’t think any of them slept for more than an hour the whole time I was there.”
There’s really no excuse for the zing of pure joy I felt at these words. I’m a grownup. A grandmother. Someone who should really be a better person by now. It’s not that I can’t appreciate what they’re going through. Heck, there was an entire decade when my own kids kept me from sleeping. (At least I think so, although frankly, most of the eighties and large chunks of the nineties are still kind of a blur.) I just wonder if there is some special form of schadenfreude that applies when you become a grandparent…
Continue reading at Barb Taub
Sue Vincent's Daily Echo 
Loved this when I read it on Barb’s blog – definitely worth reading again, making sure I’m not drinking coffee.
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I never drink anything when reading Barb’s posts…not any more 😉
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Hilarious!
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I thought so too 🙂
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😅
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