I truly believe that my husband's Grandma Joyce is the best mom, grandmother, person I've ever met.  She'll tell you until she's blue in the face how much she enjoyed being a stay-at-home mom, and how much she hated for school to start because it meant she would not get to see her kids all day.  Grandma was a Boy Scout leader, a Brownie leader, and a coach.  At 74, she still gets on her knees to scrub her kitchen floor, gardens, bakes her own bread, cans jams and jellies, crochets, sews, and drives around town in a red 1979 Corvette.  But even someone as wonderful as Grandma Joyce has their moments of bad parenting.  The following story, told from her perspective, reminds me that even the best parents have their moments!

            There was a time when the Drive-In movie was a popular form of entertainment because it was cheap and easy.  Dutch, the kids and I could go on carload night and be able to pay for everyone to get in.  The drive-in was easy because we didn’t have to worry about the kids getting out of the car, corralling them to actually make it into the theater or getting them to actually sit still and be quiet long enough for everyone else in the theater to enjoy the movie.

            One night, Dutch came in and said “let’s pack up the kids and go see a movie.”

            It had been awhile since we were able to afford a movie, so I was tickled at the idea.  I scurried around the kitchen making all kinds of snacks to keep the kids occupied.  As I stood over the kettle making popcorn, Dutch ordered the kids to change into their pajamas because he knew that as soon as the movie was over, the kids would pass out in the car, and it wasn’t worth the fight of getting them in their pajamas when we got home.        

            So off to the drive-in we went, the boys and Melanie packed snuggly in the back of the car, snacks loaded and drinks chilling in the cooler.  Sure enough, it didn’t take long before the kids started to drift off, one by one, to sleep.  Dutch and I didn’t mind, we enjoyed the movie and the rare moment of quiet that we got to have together.  From the back of the car came the soft snoring and sighing of six content kids sleeping, covered in popcorn crumbs, and I couldn’t help but think how good of an idea the drive-in movie had been that night.

            Dutch turned the car onto the long drive-way that led up to the house we were living in at the time, and we made our game plan of getting the kids upstairs and into bed.  When the last kid was tucked in, Dutch and I headed to bed ourselves, Dutch having to get up before the sun rose to be on time to the construction site where he was working at the time. 

            The next morning, Dutch and I woke up and had a cup of coffee together while I packed his lunch.  He headed off to work, and I gladly climbed the stairs to our bedroom, grateful the kids were still sleeping, and I could grab a few more winks before the day started. 

            I had just settled back into the comfy spot in our bed when I saw headlights flash outside the window.  Just as I was gathering the motivation to get up and see who was stopping by so early, Dutch came flying through the door of our bedroom and demanded “Do you know where Joe is?”

            “In bed?” I stammered, wondering why this question, to which he knew the obvious answer, would bring Dutch back home in such frenzy. Of course, by this time, I was out of bed, and following him out of the room to check the boys’ room to assure myself that Joe was sleeping soundly with the others.

            As I opened the door to the boys’ room, I felt my stomach lurch when I peeked in and saw that Joe was not in his bed, and the bed was perfectly made as it had been since the previous morning.  “Joe didn’t sleep in his bed?  Oh my god Dutch,” I screamed running down the stairs, “where is Joe?” 

            Dutch then proceeded to tell me that his drive to work had begun as normal.  He drove out to the main road that ran alongside our driveway, and was busily fiddling with the radio when he looked in the rearview mirror and saw these bright blue eyes staring back at him.  He slammed on his brakes and turned around to find Joe sitting there with his typical grin on his face, still in his pajamas.  “Hi Dad,” he chirped, nearly sending Dutch into cardiac arrest. 

            “Joe, what are you doing here?  Why aren’t you in bed?” Dutch questioned the sleepy boy. 

            “I don’t know Dad, I just woke up and I was here.  I thought maybe you were going to let me go to work with you” Joe replied.

            Dutch led me to the car as he was telling this to me, and there, sitting in the back seat, was Joe.  “Hi Mom,” he said.  I hugged Joe tightly, pulling him out of the car, thankful he was alright. 

            Somehow, the night before, one of us had miscounted kids and thought they were all inside, snug in their beds.  Poor Joe had slept in the car all night, but he did not care.  I don’t know he if remembers this, but I’ll never forget feeling like the worst parent in the world.  Come to think of it, there were a lot of times that might have made Joe think that I didn’t really like him much!