THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Thursday, August 25, 1994 TAG: 9408250564
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B01 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Column
SOURCE: Marc Tibbs
LENGTH: Medium: 66 lines
Whenever my in-laws visit, it always takes a few weeks after they're gone before our household gets back to normal, and they always leave a few things behind.
They were in town last weekend from Cleveland, and they brought with them my father-in-law's penchant for house repairs, my mother-in-law's subtle criticism and their doting affection for our 18-month-old daughter.
They arrived late Friday and we hustled them and their luggage up to the guest room. My wife and I had an early day Saturday and we intended to leave the grandparents to tend to the baby.
Whenever they visit, I find myself muttering phrases like: ``They mean well. They want the best for us,'' or ``This is their only grandchild.''
I wasn't surprised this time by the way they behaved, but by the way our daughter responded. Not to mention the plumbing job that I now have to look forward to.
But first, the baby.
My wife and I - more or less - try to teach her independence. She knows, for example, how to climb into her high chair at mealtime.
When it's time to change her diaper, all we do is say the phrase, and she toddles off to the bedroom trying to climb up to do the deed.
But with grandma and grandpa in town, I hardly recognized this little person who's been living with us for nearly two years.
She pouted at the slightest provocation. Screamed for things she wanted when they sat right in front of her. She was generally as uncooperative as I've ever seen her the entire weekend.
I COULDN'T FIGURE it out until my wife and I returned from Saturday errands and found our child playing inside a huge red and yellow plastic car - a gift from the Grandparents. She was just getting the hang of blaring the horn on the steering wheel.
As is her manner, the baby tried climbing on top of the thing, and it came tumbling gently down on her onto the kitchen floor. She's made falls like that hundreds of times, so neither of us were alarmed.
Except for grandma.
From her, the fall elicited a predictable gasp, at which the baby looked puzzled, then seized the opportunity. The child went from a sense of wonderment at her new and latest toy, to a dry-eyed, wailing scream.
``This is their only grandchild,'' I told myself over the din. ``They mean well.''
Meanwhile, the father-in-law had stopped at the hardware store where he'd bought a faucet fixture for the upstairs bath.
Nice guy, huh?
Well, all he could find in my toolbox were old candy wrappers and used sheets of sandpaper. The last time I'd seen the tools that he needed, my wife's cousin was using them to make a hasty repair on her earrings.
By the time they finally left for Ohio, I had a half-done plumbing job in front of me, an 18-month-old baby it seemed I had just met and a perforation in my tongue from where I'd bitten it so often.
``They really do mean wall. This, after all, is their only grandchild.'' MEMO: Got a comment or a complaint? Call Marc Tibbs' INFOLINE number. Dial
640-5555 (245-5555 from the Peninsula) and enter category 6272 (MARC).
by CNB