We were so pleased to have Dave and Barb Bayne come from Michigan to visit us in April! The last time they were here in the fall of 2011, Josiah was Clara's age--just six months old. A lot has changed around here since then.
The three older kids (and especially Josiah) remember them from the summertime, when we've stayed at their house a few days on each end of our trip up to Long Lake in Michigan. The kids particularly remember the cuckoo clock and the play fort out in the Baynes' back yard. Anyway, Josiah, Lydia, and Abby took to the Baynes right away. Lydia enjoyed snuggles with them, the girls did push-ups with Uncle Dave in the mornings, Josiah tagged along when Uncle Dave helped Daddy with projects in the back yard, and everyone loved Aunt Barb's stories!
Of course, the kids also often roped Uncle Dave and Aunt Barb into reading to them. Here they alternated page by page . . .
Aunt Barb's stories and information about animals especially stuck with the children. Josiah told us the other night at the dinner table all about guinea hens--how they're ugly, and they're not good layers, but they squawk loudly at any sign of danger so as to warn all the other chickens and animals on a farm; so farmers buy them as "watchdogs." I couldn't remember where he learned all this about guinea hens, so I asked him. "Aunt Barb told us!" he reminded me.
They also loved the story Aunt Barb told about her sister-in-law growing up in the jungle in Africa, where her brothers kept a leopard for a pet--until it tasted blood and had to be sent away. They were enthralled with the story of the Wide-Mouthed Frog, too! No one can tell it quite like Aunt Barb can.
Of course, Jeremy and I enjoyed having them here as well. Not only was it nice to have two extra pairs of grandparently hands to help out, but we enjoyed good conversations, advice, and encouragement, too.
Oh, and I was particularly grateful to have them here in the event of the paint apocalypse! Josiah and the girls spilled a full can of reddish-brown paint/stain on the patio just outside the back door while I was in the shower one morning. Thanks to the quick action of Uncle Dave and Aunt Barb, no one tracked it into the house, there were minimal paint stains on clothing, and most of the paint was salvaged. Uncle Dave carefully scraped up the pool of paint, and he and I scrubbed the patio. I was sure it would leave a big stain, but it's actually hardly noticeable! While none of us enjoyed the clean-up (except perhaps the kids on the sidelines), I know if I was home solo at the time of the catastrophe, we would have had more paint on people, house, patio, and elsewhere. (Thanks a million, Uncle Dave and Aunt Barb!)