**Diary Entry**
I suppose you dont really understand children these days!
“Hello, Margaret, I see youve been busy in the gardenthought Id pop in and say hello,” called Beatrice, hovering by the gate.
She and Margaret lived at opposite ends of the villageBeatrice and her husband, Albert, near the river, while Margaret was closer to the woods.
Theyd barely spoken before, what with so many neighbours around. But now, most of those neighbours’ grandchildren were grown, while Beatrices son, Thomas, and his wife, Eleanor, were sending their two grandsonsOliver and Williamto stay for the whole summer. Apparently, the boys were tired of city life.
Years ago, when Thomas was doing well, theyd always holidayed abroad. Now things had changed, and suddenly they remembered their parents peaceful cottage by the river. Not just for the odd weekend, eithera whole month.
“Just a warning, Mumthey dont get on,” Thomas had said. “Oliver, at thirteen, thinks hes a grown man, and William refuses to listen to him. They bicker constantly!”
“Oh, well manage,” Beatrice had replied brightly. But after hanging up, she had second thoughtschildren werent the same these days. Last time theyd visited, it was only briefly. How would they behave now? The thought made her uneasy. What if she couldnt handle them?
Albert was firm, no-nonsensehe wouldnt tolerate disobedience. The last thing they needed was constant squabbling.
So Beatrice decided to hedge her bets and visit Margaret, whose grandsons were around the same age.
She remembered from raising her own children that keeping them occupied was keyfewer problems if they made friends.
“Come in, Beatrice!” Margaret waved her inside. “What brings you here?”
“The boys are staying with us for the summer, and I thought yours might be close in age? Maybe if they got along, itd be easier for all of us,” Beatrice suggested.
Margaret laughed. “You must not know much about children these days! Arent you nervous having them for so long? Mine drove me spare last summermy husband nearly sent them home early! But fine, bring them round. What choice do we have? Theyre family!”
That weekend, Thomas arrived with Eleanor, Oliver, and William.
The boys had grown, but they seemed happy to see their grandparents. Beatrices heart lifted.
What was Margaret so worried about? Maybe her grandsons were unruly, but hers were polite and well-behaved! And bright, toonothing to fret over.
“Just ring if theres trouble, Mum,” Thomas said as he left. But Beatrice waved him off. “Oh, dont fusswe raised you, didnt we?”
That evening, Oliver and William took ages to settle. Theyd been given Thomass old room, but excitement kept them awaketalking loudly, rustling about. Albert, irritated, muttered, “Why on earth did you agree to this? They dont care about the countrysidetheyre just here because its cheap!”
Come morning, the boys were impossible to wake. By lunchtime, they were still asleep.
“Nana, just a bit longer,” Oliver mumbled.
William didnt even stir.
“Honestly, how much sleep do they need?” Beatrice huffed.
Then she spotted something on the floortheir phones.
“Were you up all night on these? Thats itIm confiscating them!”
Oliver leapt up. “Give them back! Theyre not yours!”
“Ill call your mother and see what she says about that!” Beatrice snapped.
Oliver scowled but backed off. “Fine, call her then!” He stormed out, slamming the door.
Two hours passed without a peep. Albert was ready to march inwhat kind of boycott was this on their first day? But eventually, the boys emerged, sulking.
“Were not eating porridge. We want nuggets or toasties.”
“Oh, is that so? Well, you can go hungry then,” Albert snapped. “And have you even made your beds? Lets seewhats this? Crisp packets and sweet wrappers in the sheets? And youve not tidied a thing? You havent earned breakfast yetclean this mess up!”
“We cant go hungry!” William glared. “Youre mean!”
Albert nearly lost his temper, but Beatrice stepped in. “Come on, Ill show you how to make the beds, and tomorrow youll do it yourselves. Deal? And you can have toastafter porridge. Agreed?”
“You spoil them,” Albert grumbled. “No respect for hard work!”
The boys soon befriended Margarets grandsons. But the four of them were a nightmaresnapping branches, trampling flowers, trailing mud indoors, crumbs everywhere. They loosened chair legs, slammed doors so hard the curtains shook.
“Absolute menaces!” Albert fumed. “Never againwe cant manage them!” He turned to Oliver. “Right, youre helping me fix the bikes. Nana and William will sort lunch. Youll earn your keep today.”
Oliver blinked. “Youre making us work for it?”
“Did you think I sit around all day? Nothings freeyou earn what you get. And look at these torn clothes! Lucky your dad left spares here. But clothes dont magically appearhard work does!”
“Don
