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I've got Rojo today. Bambi's oldest son, my grand-nephew, whom I typically refer to as "my nephew" so as not to give the impression of being 900 years old.
Most people would call me a great-aunt but grand-aunt is the correct term. I was surprised to learn this myself.
Rojo has had behavior problems at daycare that have gotten pretty hairy, so I offered to watch him over the summer. I also talked Bambi into registering him in an alternative first-grade class at the school nearest my house, so if he gets sent home I can just pick him up. This past year she has been forced to bring him to work with her until her mother could get away from her own work to pick him up (all of which is happening about twenty miles from here).
Not an ideal situation.
Typically, nobody in the family ever asks me to babysit. I think it's because they think I'm incompetent. Which may be true, but then again none of my kids have ever been sent home from school for bad behavior.
My sister Diane (Bambi's mother) dropped Rojo off this morning while I was still sleeping. Bambi would have walked him to the door and waited with him, but Diane just sat in her car in the driveway. When Rojo looked back at her, she would shout, "Just keep knocking!"
Diane told Bambi that after a while, she saw the door open and an arm appeared, grabbed Rojo, and pulled him inside. "I have no idea who it was," she told her.
It wasn't me, I know that much. But I am good for lunch, which I'd better go make before it turns into dinner.