The Reason The "Staycation" Was Invented

This weekend I took a trip to stay with my aunt and uncle. They only live half an hour away, but it's far enough to get some space from Grandma when I need it most. Their neighborhood is VERY vibrant and a whole crew of them were throwing a "progressive party" and it was a blasty blast. Each house had it's own signature drink and snacks (ever had a "beergarita!?" I have!) We didn't get home until midnight, and I was toasted. This morning the three of us went out for breakfast, and then I got on the road back to Grandma's house. Short, sweet, just enough.

Before I left last night I put Grandma's chicken pot pie in the oven (even though I told her the microwave was faster and probably easier!) and made her coffee for the next morning. I picked up the house, and wiped down the kitchen, and things looked pretty alright as I sailed out the door. Well, you can imagine my shock when I roll in today to find that the whole house is a DISASTER!

How much damage can one person do in less than 24 hours?

A LOT!!!

There were at least four newspapers distributed in chunks and scraps in the living room (even though we only get one newspaper delivered per day...), she had half a dozen glasses and mugs (all filled somewhat with something!) and the oven! Good god the oven. There was crust and sauce and chopped veggies everywhere, even in the drawer UNDER the oven, covering the muffin tins and cooling racks that are stored there. Nothing escaped unsmeared. "I spilled!" offered Grandma, feebly. HA! She destroyed the place! I'm glad she wasn't burned, but it's nothing but the microwave for Grandma from now on! The oven has been cleaning itself for the last two hours, I only wish the rest of the house could do the same.

The thing is, every time I come home the place is a wreck. Every night before I do the dishes I do a lap around the house and grab all the nasty crusty drinking glasses that materialize out of thin air. There's always half eaten yogurt containers on the table and something has always been spilled. I can't seem to walk through a room without collecting the dirty napkins and tissues raining from Grandma's pockets and sleeves.

I completely understand, and god knows I don't plan to do any cleaning related activities when I'm 90, but Grandma doesn't seem capable of operating without making an absolute mess of EVERYTHING. It's exhausting, and it's obvious that my mini-vacations only exacerbate the problem. What I really need is to send Grandma somewhere... like camp.