At my house there’s no excuse for a child getting into mischief. I have lovely toys upstairs and down. The video games are excellent. The Barbies, with their clothes and accessories, are numerous. Lots to see and do.

So it’s hard to explain kids getting into trouble other than to say, “They just want to.”

Yesterday afternoon my dear grandchildren were here and they had lots of fun. Used to their antics, I paid no attention. Then it got quiet. After a bit of time passed and I still heard nothing, I went to see. Benny was on the red sofa, beside him, a box of Kleenexes. On the floor nearby, T-Bone. All over the place…piles and piles of torn up Kleenex. I gasped, but otherwise kept quiet.

Benny handed a Kleenex to T-Bone who tore it up. Then Benny shredded one and chuckled, showed T-Bone. Then T-Bone’s turn. They shredded a whole box of super-soft, Aloe infused tissues. Seeing me, Benny cheerfully remarked, “I’m helping T-Bone have a good time. He loves this.”

I must be the worst Grandma in town. Any normal adult should have inspired guilt in a child so occupied. Benny, on the other hand, seemed to think I’d be happy to know that he made life more fun for T-Bone…by tearing up Kleenexes.

This morning, after getting the kids occupied, I announced, “Everyone behave. I’m going to take a bath and get dressed.”

Sadie inquired, “You mean take a bath with no clothes on?”

I replied, “Help me decide. Maybe I should keep my clothes on.” She told me not to be silly.

So I fired up the bubble solution, added some lavender, submerged myself in fragrant suds and relaxed for a minute. Bad idea. It was too quiet.

Once dressed and downstairs, I heard nothing. Tippy-toed into the dining room. There were Benny and Sadie. They had spread a quilt over a large storage stool. At “places” around the edge, Sadie was carefully creating piles of salt and pepper from shakers on the dining room table. Looking up and seeing me, she beamed happily and invited, “Come on, Ahno. We’re having a salt and pepper party. You can sit here,” pointing to a spot she’d already supplied. No guilt. No fear. I say again…there’s something wrong with me. Why didn’t they jump guiltily when I showed up?

Still didn’t leave for the Pennsylvania mountains. Yesterday on the phone with the caretaker, I learned that my hot water heater had been struck with lightning. He’ll call when the new one’s ready to go. Sigh.

Meanwhile we’re entertaining ourselves as best we can…tearing up Kleenex and serving piles of salt and pepper.