Allow me to sing the praises of clear plastic take-out containers. I'm talking about the handy cylinders which house my Hot & Sour Soup. They are magnificent. They're air-tight, you know. Because they're water-tight. Not so much water- as soup-tight.
I have a million of 'em. Or at least fourteen. Right now, two of them are cooling their lids in Frig, full to the brim with the remains of a cauldron of chili I made this afternoon. Another miracle container went for a ride with my mom. She likes chili, too. And I hooked her up in return for hosting The Pony all day. He has spent the last two Friday nights with her. I believe she felt she was getting off easy today.
The Pony loves him some Grandma time. He doesn't so much interact with her as soak up her high-speed internet with game-playing shenanigans. All the same, he knows what Grandma is doing every moment. In fact, he sometimes advises her. "Grandma, why don't you go upstairs and take a nap? I'm fine here. I don't need anything." Sometimes she humors him, and takes a nap on the couch.
This morning, The Pony asked me solemnly, "Do you want me to keep Grandma in the house today?" Like we're her parole officers, or wardens. I guess he's remembering the lazy, hazy days of summer, when I forbade her to mow her yard. She has the #1 son for that. But if he's unavailable when she thinks it needs doing, she'll tackle the job herself. I told The Pony that Grandma was allowed out. But not to rake leaves or perform other manual labor.
If she disappears from his sight without an express command from The Pony, he goes looking for her. "Grandma! What are you doing? I thought you'd been gone too long." He's a faithful companion.
I think he forgets that she manages quite nicely the other six days of the week. All by her lonesome.