The Fall of Troy

One of the Grandparents got away. Using chocolate croissants as a distraction (I told you this was a clever species), Papa Troy slipped out of the house. I can't say that I blame him. We really put him through the ringer. His torment started out with multiple nights on our pull out couch (I hear you can feel every spring) and ended with a trip to the most crowded pier (Pier 39) in San Francisco with Sarah screaming (think MAJOR melt-down) for a good portion of that trip. Somewhere in there, we also threw in a flaming turkey, a much too low ceiling, and of course Sancho and Lola to contend with. I bet he's happy to be back home.

The remaining Grandparent (Nana) and Great Grandparent (Mammaw) appear to be much hardier. They're still here. I thought for sure when Mike had to leave unexpectedly on a business trip Friday night that they would surely crack (they seem to be very fond of him). Instead, they stayed and cheerily continued to do all of those neat things that Grandparents do. I'm afraid this won't last much longer. I think they're planning an escape. The last round of Thanksgiving leftovers tonight might have finally pushed them over the edge.



Here are Troy and Nana. At this point, I think Troy was considering jumping into the bay and becoming the first person to escape to Alcatraz.