The Grandparent Effect.
[Editor's Note: A few years ago, every time we would show up to pick up the kids from my mother-in-law's house, my oldest would wail and scream and pout and generally implore us to let him live with grandma. Apparently this is called the grandparent effect as I learned from Rachel at Grasping for Objectivity. It eventually got better, though they never want to leave any grandparent's house, and I've learned to ignore it and accept it for what it is. Have you experienced the grandparent effect? -Jenna]
You send them to the Grandparents for a few days, and you miss ‘em like crazy.
You can’t WAIT to pick them up, knowing that they’ll run to you, jump into your arms, and hug you, showering their undying affection upon you.
Then you arrive, and you are quickly reminded of The Grandparent Effect.
It’s not purposeful on the Grandparent’s part, but any child being the center of attention and running the joint for a few days can’t help but curdling into the most spoiled of states.
Their attitudes smell even worse than those sippy cups of milk that you find underneath the sofa – the ones that you have to shake over the sink with a vehement force to make the solid lump of milk turn loose and jiggle it’s putrid way down the drain, all while you attempt mashing it up with a fork to help it squeeze through.