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Am on vacay at the #1Grandparents' house. Sounds delightfully relaxing, yes? What it actually means is that I am busy running interference. So many lollies. So much fizzy, sugary drink. All of the chocolates. Every biscuit ever coated in chocolate and whacked in a packet. Now I know how Border Security staff feel. It is exhausting going through every nook and cranny looking for hidden stashes of contraband. Patting down The Feral Threesome multiple times a day. Listening for that knowing rustle of lolly wrapper, wedged somewhere in their undies because they are used to emptying their pockets for inspection. Upon arrival, a few days ago, I was everyone's favorite person - providing the beloved Grandkids for a visit with their equally beloved #1Nana and #1Pop. Now I am the anti-Christ. A sugar hating, chocolate confiscating kill joy. If I fail to blog again, send shovels and the CSI crew to the #1Grandparents' house. I will likely be buried next to the cat. He got a cross (doubt I will), so I shouldn't be too hard to locate. I don't anticipate any resistance from the murderous traitors, as they'll all be in sugar comas.