wrong side of the fence

Yesterday Mom, Dad and I were babysitting Ethie and Greggie. Ethie is no problem, make a paper doll, do some stamping, otherwise he can entertain himself. Greggie, however, is a bit... wild. When his father Andrew was a kid, the most common thing heard in our house was "Where's Andrew?" and now it is "Where's Geggie??" He is into everything, with eat anything he can find on the floor, plus he is allergic to a million things, so you have to have someone with him at all times. For most of the day, we let him go where he wanted and just had someone with him. After many hours tho, we get weak. Then we start blocking stuff so he is stuck on the main level.

Greggie also loves throwing stuff over the fence overlooking the basement, so Dad has to get out his reacher/grabber tool and pull things (like Greggie's pacifier and socks) out from behind the computer desk. He let Ethie try it last night and they were picking up all the toys with it and putting them away in the basement. Greggie was standing at the fence, watching them, trying to jam a leg thru the posts as if that would help him get down there to be with them. He has been standing at that fence many times in his life, watching others doing stuff downstairs, and I got a little sad watching him.

I commented to Mom that Greggie was often "on the wrong side of the fence" cuz there are so many things he can't do because of his multiple illnesses. Mom looked at me, kinda surprised, and said that must be why Greggie and I love each other so much- I am always on the wrong side of the fence- watching people do things I can't (like go outside! eat mint ice cream cake!) just like him.

I had never thought of that before. I am on the wrong side of the fence pretty often. Being sad for Greggie means being sad for myself too.

Have a good week,
Anne