I'm a clutch bedlamite

Despite a scratched cornea and all signs pointed to preemie grandbabies, Mom and Dad could not be deterred. They had tight up plans, yo. They squashed lots of gear in their surprisingly opulent new mini-van. They popped in on the optometrist on the way out of town. They were hellbent for Alaska.

When they left, Tom said, "They'll probably make it to Winnipeg and turn around and come home. Everybody knows those babies are coming early."

Tuesday, word came down the twin nuchies are poised for an entrance. Mom and Dad had been cavorting around in Winnipeg. They are turning around and coming home.

In the meantime, I'm at the ready. My brother locked in some ground rules about carrying around a phone at all times. Which I have been doing despite the peculiar bulk. I woke up last night full on sprinting down the hall in the pitch dark. I thought the phone rang. Turns out, no. But I'm considering getting a pole because sliding is speediest. I bet.

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