As the More is More Mom®, I must say that water in the basement certainly creates…..more opportunities.
My mom is amazing. She is everything a mother and grandmother should be; loving, encouraging, supportive, humorous, engaging, nurturing, involved, and devoted. My people are her only grandchildren and they swear that “NANA” stands for Nick-Amanda-Nick-Amanda. Even Wrigley makes out like a bandit. He never has to check in to a doggie motel, because he gets to be a city dog and vacation with his Nana and Boppa in Chicago. We’re lucky he’s willing to come home with us. Our cul-de-sac is sooooo boring; it’s nothing like Wisteria Lane.
This was the plan: Sunday night my mom would zip out to the ‘burbs in her Zoom Zoom Car (her Mazda 5, which she is crazy for!) and chauffer Amanda around town for a few days while I took Nick to his golf tourney in Wisconsin. Chuck of course would have to go to work (it’s a four letter word for a reason). Wrigley was super pumped to have time with his Nana. He likes her best because she holds his rawhide for him while he gnaws at it and she takes him for lengthy, leisurely walks.
When the floodgates opened up to our basement, I called my mom and asked if she would mind taking Nick to his tournament instead. Mind? Absolutely not! She’d be delighted. Time with a busy teenager can be rather elusive and she’d been missing her Nicky Boy. Sometimes she will come for a quick sleepover to get her Nick fix, even if it’s just to look at him do his homework (though they usually stay up extra late and have a Will Ferrell marathon. Apparently napping is never frowned upon during 1st period.).
Now that I am a semi-professional golf spectator, I gave her the lowdown. Sunday night they would play a practice round and ride in the golf cart. Then, the following two days she could walk the 36 holes and admire Nick (in the nearly unbearable sun and heat). She was thrilled! We are a city people, accustomed to the concrete jungle, so three days on the links sounded like a vacation. Nana loved her time with Nick in the golf cart, cruising around from hole to hole. She is a woman that loves a good souvenir t-shirt and was hopeful the tournament would be selling one to commemorate her time with Nick.
Apparently, I’ve not given my mom enough credit; she is actually very good at locating the ball and keeping score….of everyone playing in the round. I can never find the ball and after each t-shot turn to Nick and ask, “Where did it go?” As we move on to the next hole I inquire, “How many strokes was that?” Not irritating at all.
They found a hotel that they both liked, while I complain about everything. If we don’t move to another hotel, at the very least, we change rooms. Each night they ate at one of Nick’s favorite establishments, Buffalo Wild Wings. One night they spent 4 ½ hours at the Cineplex enjoying Inception and Salt.
As it turned out, Nana brought Nick good luck. He shot a 78 the first day and a 74 the second. She was down with the lingo and would text us things like, “37 on the front 9 with a double bogey.” I barely know what that means!
The best part about our basement flooding (other than the overdue spring cleaning) was that Nick got to spend a few quality days with his Nana. What could be more meaningful than that?