On Boxing Day my parents came over for a visit. We spent the day together and had a nice time during the day.
Then at about 3pm, right on cue, my dad started drinking.
He continued on for the afternoon and early evening, alternating between going outside to smoke pot and going downstairs to get another beer out of the fridge - eventually getting to that place where he is a blabbering, slobbery, retarded, annoying ass.
I am on edge when he gets like that because although he means no harm to anyone, he is just so obnoxious and I don't want him around my kids. Ruby has become very nervous of him - not because he's ever done anything to harm her but because she senses that something isn't right.
At one point he looked adoringly at Lincoln (through his bleary eyes) and told him that he can't wait until Lincoln is a little older as he can picture Lincoln at their house, following him around outside, hanging out in the yard.
And I envisioned my dad walking around the yard with beer in his hand and "secretly" going into his garage to smoke pot and coming out wreaking of weed - while Lincoln tootles around taking it all in. Not my idea of a healthy grandpa/grandson relationship.
I made appies that night for us to enjoy while we watched the hockey game. Mushroom turnovers, spring rolls, chicken wings. Steve stared at my dad in disgust while he gorged on the wings and the "apple turnovers and cottage rolls" as he kept calling them.
And I sat across the room watching him with a heavy, heavy heart. All I could think was that this, THIS is going to be the only grandfather that my kids will know.