You must not know much about children these days!
Hello, Margaret! I see youre busy in the gardenthought Id pop by and say hello, said Patricia, shuffling near the gate.
She and Margaret lived on opposite ends of the village. Patricia and her husband, Victor, had their cottage near the river, while Margarets place was closer to the woods.
Before, theyd hardly spokenthere were plenty of neighbours to chat with. But now, most of the neighbours grandchildren were grown. This summer, though, Patricias son and daughter-in-law were sending their grandsons, Oliver and Jack, to stay for a whole month. Apparently, the boys were tired of city life.
Years ago, when their son, William, was doing well financially, the family had always holidayed abroad. But things had changed, and suddenly, they remembered their parents lived by the countryside. So instead of just a weekend visit, they decided to send the boys for a full month.
Just so you know, Mum, they dont always get along, William had warned. Oliver, at thirteen, thinks hes grown, and Jack wont take orders from himthey bicker constantly!
Oh, well manage, Patricia had said cheerfully. But after hanging up, she hesitated. Children werent the same these days. Sometimes, you couldnt even talk to them properly. The last time theyd stayed long was when they were little. How would they behave now? The thought made her nervouswhat if she couldnt handle them?
Victor was a stern manhe wouldnt tolerate disobedience. And quarrels were the last thing they needed.
So Patricia decided to play it safe and visit Margaret, who also had grandsons around the same age visiting.
She remembered from her own time that keeping children busy meant fewer problemsespecially if they made friends.
Come in, Patricia! Margaret called when she saw her. What brings you here?
Well, my grandsons are coming to stay for a month, and I hear yours are about the same age? Maybe we could introduce themif they get along, itll be good for all of us, Patricia suggested.
Margaret laughed. You must not know much about children these days! Arent you worried about having them for so long? Mine drove me up the wallmy husband nearly sent them home early! But fine, bring them over. What else can we do? Theyre our grandchildren!
That weekend, William and his wife, Eleanor, arrived with Oliver and Jack.
The boys had grown, and it was clear they were happy to see their grandparents. Patricia felt a weight lift from her heart.
What was Margaret going on about? Maybe her grandsons were unruly, but hers were polite and well-behaved! And they did well in school toonothing to worry over.
Mum, if theres any trouble, just call me, William said as they left. But Patricia waved him off. Oh, stop fussingdidnt we raise children of our own?
That evening, Oliver and Jack took forever to settle. Theyd been given Williams old room, but the change of scene had them too excited to sleep. Their loud chatter and rustling kept Victor awake, and he was far from pleased.
Why on earth did you agree to this, Pat? he grumbled. They never cared for the village beforewhy come now?
Yet come morning, the boys wouldnt wake up.
It was nearly lunchtime, and they were still asleep.
Gran, let us sleep a bit longer, Oliver muttered.
Jack was out cold, not even hearing his grandmothers voice.
How long can they possibly sleep? Patricia huffed.
Then she spotted something on the floor. She bent downand gasped.
Their phones lay discarded.
Were you two playing on these all night? This isnt onIm taking them!
Oliver shot up. Give them back! Theyre not yours! Mum lets us!
Ill just call her and ask what she allows, shall I? Patricia said. Oliver backed off, scowling. Fine, call her then!
He stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
For two hours, the boys stayed holed up. Victor was ready to march inwhat kind of protest was this on the very first day? But eventually, they emerged, both in sour moods.
We dont want porridge. We want nuggets or hot sandwiches.
Oh, do you now? Victor snapped. If porridge isnt good enough, go hungry. And have you made your beds? Let me see what mess youve left! He marched to their room. Crisp packets? Sweet wrappers in the beds? And you havent even tidied? You havent earned breakfast yetclean this up, now!
We cant go hungry! Jack glared. Youre mean!
Victors temper flared, but Patricia stepped in. Come on, Ill show you how to make the beds properly. Tomorrow, youll do it yourselves, alright? And sandwichesonly after porridge. Deal?
Youre spoiling them, Victor muttered. No shame, the pair of them!
The boys soon befriended Margarets grandsons.
But the four of them together were a whirlwind.
If they played in the garden, Patricia would later sneak outside, gathering sticks and branches from who-knows-where. They trampled flowers, dragged grass indoors, left crumbs everywhere. They loosened chair legs, slammed doorsthe house was in chaos.
What kind of children are these? Victor fumed. Never again! If they cant behave, theyre not welcome back!
Then he turned to Oliver. Right, youre helping me fix your bikes. Gran and Jack will make lunch. Youll earn your keep today.
Oliver blinked. We have to earn lunch?
Did you think things come for free? Nothing in life doesyou work for it. Look at youripped trousers already! Lucky Gran kept your dads old clothes. But nothing falls from the skyyou want something, you work!
Dont be too hard on them, Patricia chided. You werent an angel either, remember?
When the time came to leave, the boys complained to their parents.
Grandad was awful! He took our phones and made us work!
But a week later, a stunned William called.
Mum, Dadhow did you do it? Jack can peel potatoes and vacuum now! Oliver does his own laundryhes even chatting more! And they make their beds without being told!
Were we supposed to wait on them? Patricia retorted. They sulked when they leftdoubt theyll want to come back.
But a year later, Oliver and Jack asked to visit againeven turning down a holiday abroad. The village meant friends now.
And there was something satisfying about eating Grans porridge and piesknowing theyd earned them.
Because when you work for something, you can take pride in it. And that, it turns out, feels rather good.
