George and Verna woke up at 7:00 on Friday morning to the news on their radio alarm clock. They looked at each other and sighed.

“It’s just the weekend,” Verna said, trying to sound brisk and happy. Instead, she sounded unsure of herself.

“Friday from 6:00 p.m. to Sunday at 6:00 p.m. 48 hours.” moaned George, “Let’s hope they go quickly.”

Any outsiders would never have guessed that there was nothing George and Verna dreaded more than babysitting their grandchildren. They did love their grandchildren and, like typical grandparents, carried multiple photos and bragged about major milestones and accomplishments, “Abby won her bean bag race on Field day” and “Little Joey lost his first tooth!”

But in the quiet confines of their own home, they admitted to each other, that their grandchildren were best enjoyed in small doses, say two hours. Even four hours was pushing it. At least three times a year, though, they got the unwanted phone call.

“Hey Mom and Dad,” their daughter would say, “Will and I are planning to go to the San Juan Islands for a weekend. Abby and Joey are really excited to come stay with you.”

Abby, nine, was bossy and dramatic, sure that she had superior knowledge on most topics. Really what could her grandparents know? They were old!  Joey, six, was whiny if you didn’t answer his questions. And he asked questions every other second. Why is Leroy three different colors? Why does he shed? What’s that? What’s a record player? What’s a record? What are we having for lunch? What else? We’re not having dessert?

Then the bawling would start. Joey cried about everything. Verna sighed. Sometimes, she wished it was still politically correct to say things like, “Boys don’t cry, dear.”

At breakfast, Leroy had a gut feeling something unpleasant was happening today. He wagged his tail nervously, hoping that his owners’ glum faces didn’t signal a trip to the vet. When Verna made up two cots in the office, Leroy relaxed. This wasn’t about the vet, there were visitors coming. He wagged his tail. Visitors meant attention!

But at 6:00 o’clock that evening, Leroy realized who the visitors were, as Abby and Joey rushed in and surrounded their grandmother in the kitchen, talking a mile a minute. Before Abby and Joey could attack t him and start rubbing his fur in all the wrong directions, he sneaked out of the living room and curled up under George and Verna’s bed. Henry, the cat was also there. For once, Leroy was only too happy to share the space with his enemy. Henry opened one eye and hissed. Leroy put his nose down between his paws and looked pleadingly at him. He also remembered not to wag his tail because he knew cats didn’t wave their tails to be friendly. It usually meant they were hunting something. The cat closed its eyes again.

Out in the living room, George realized they had forgotten to move their Chihuly glass from the coffee table to a safer place. He picked up the vase and several other pieces and also disappeared into the bedroom. He put the glass pieces in their closet, spotted Leroy’s tail under the bed, and smiled.

“That’s what I feel like doing too, Leroy,” he said. The tail thumped a few times and George went back to his shrieking grandkids.

“Grandpa! Grandpa! Guess what we brought?” Abby yelled in his ear as Joey screamed,

“No! I wanna tell! Let me tell!”

Abby held up a plastic bag with a small goldfish swimming in three inches of water.

“We brought you a goldfish!” Abby said triumphantly, holding the bag out of Joey’s reach. Joey started wailing.

George and Verna looked at each other. It was going to be a long weekend.