“No, Gwansley. No!” Taylor was still screaming.
James scooped him up in one arm, Preston still strapped to his chest, and said, “All right, you little monkey. Let’s get you downstairs into the holding area.” He tickled his belly with his other hand, and Taylor giggled. “Do we need to take you to the zoo?” James asked, making a funny face at Taylor. “Because we only draw on paper, not the house.”
He trotted down the stairs, and I stripped the coverlet and shams off the bed to take to the cleaners.
“Noooooo!” AJ shrieked. Biscuit started barking, adding to the chorus of obnoxious noises.
OK. Wall eyeliner would have to wait.
I ran downstairs. “Buddy,” James was saying, “we can only play with Play-Doh in the kitchen.”
“But I want Play-Doh while I watchDoc!”
I closed my eyes and slowly looked down to see Play-Doh ground into the gorgeous loose weave of my Stark Natura rug. I leaned over and grabbed the mound off the carpet, cringing at the orange residue jammed well into the fibers.
There was no doubt about it: the kids were winning.
James grimaced.
“It’s OK, it’s OK,” I said. “You know what? I say we pack it up and drive over to the beach.”
James nodded. “Excellent plan, Gransley.”
“I want to go,” Mom chimed in.
“Beach, beach!” Taylor said.
“Yay, beach!” AJ agreed.
“Gransley, I need to tinkle!” AJ exclaimed.
“Let’s go, let’s go,” I said.
I smelled it before he said, “Uh-oh.”
James attempted to cover his laughter with his hand as a puddle of golden liquid formed at AJ’s feet. Well, at least it was on the hardwoods.
“Come on, Taylor,” he said. “We’re going to go out to the guesthouse while Gransley handles this situation.”
Before he could even take his nephew’s hand, I heard a loud burp, and as I turned, a stream of spit-up shot out of Preston’s mouth.
“Oh my God!” James yelled, unstrapping the Baby Björn and holding Preston away from him, the baby’s little legs dangling in the air. James looked down at the spit-up covering his clean, pressed shirt. And the poor guy couldn’t even see the rivulets running down his back.
“Nope. That’s not coming out,” Mom said. Now it was my turn to laugh.
James cocked his head to the side and looked at Preston, “Really, buddy? I keep you clean and fed all weekend and this is how you repay me?”
Mom and I shared a glance. This was a make-or-break moment. Would James get mad, hand us the kid, and run off?
But he just laughed and said, “Let’s go get you cleaned up, big guy.”
“Wow,” Mom said. “I’m impressed.”
James shrugged. “He’s my kid, Grammy. I even love his spit-up.”
THAT EVENING, WHEN EVERYONEwas clean, changed, and blowing bubbles on the front porch, James looked over at me and said, “I have a surprise for you.”
I should have bit my tongue, but I couldn’t. “I’ve had about enough of your surprises for one year.”
