Reality Check

I adore the above child, Grandbaby MacTech. So I volunteered to keep him out at the beach while mom, dad and "pop-pop" returned to work. I am not a stranger to the labors of childcare having raised a couple from scratch and spent the better part of my lifetime shepherding the lambs of others in a school setting – still the relentlessness of being alone with a two-year old for hours on end can be shocking even for one whose eyes are as open as mine.
He does not like me out of his sight and if I sneak into the kitchen to make a gin and tonic (after 5 of course) The "where nana go?" litany begins. He likes to vacuum, swiff and wet mop. (yes it could be worse, he doesn't set fires) The thing is he likes me to participate. "nana do it, too?"
He also enjoys zooming little cars and trains around the floor as he delivers bits and pieces of junk he missed in his vacuuming. This endeavor doesn't always go as smoothly as he'd like and when tracks come apart or carefully loaded cars tip over he'll start to throw things and groan loudly.
He cooks with a pretend microwave which goes crashing to the floor every time he slams the door hard, yet he will not consent to leaving it on the floor. It must be on the kiddie table (and nana must place it there, over and over again)
Every 30 minutes or so he stops, looks into the distance and exclaims, "tramp killed da rat." or "Ya 'member da naughty cats?" an allusion to scenes in Lady in the Tramp which I let him watch before bedtime every night, and no, he isn't having nightmares, he sleeps quite soundly until 5:45 or so when our day begins again.
His midday nap allows for the writing of this post otherwise I dare not open the computer as he takes over, slamming on the keyboard and demanding the Thomas the Tank Engine website. ( I can sing you the Thomas and Friends song by heart or "We are Siamese..." if you please.
Soon he will wake and I'll hustle him down to the beach where the surf has kicked up the past few days - the break water too difficult for a short person to broach with a baby in tow and so we'll have to stay in the white water, splashing and squealing, nana at a 90 degree angle to herself with a 35 pound "sinker in a floatie" tugging at her arms. We'll dig tunnels and make endless cakes for immediate smashing and find pretty shells for mommy. We'll eat pretzels and ice cream. I'll do my best to tire him out so he'll snooze in the car on the ride back to Brooklyn tonight. He'll wake tomorrow to city sounds and mommy hugs.