News flash: Grandparenting is not for wimps

I laid down to sleep on a caterpillar. Not a real one. Or even a Caterpillar tractor – which would’ve been more comfortable. This caterpillar was a four-foot long stuffed animal and was my pillow as I reclined on a single layer of egg-crate foam that separated me from the floor.
Earlier, the Bride and I had prepared for the predicted icy onslaught by buying cabin fever essentials like hot wings and getting some DVDs from the library. (Spaceballs: not as funny as I remembered. Life of Pi: still awesome).


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