However, this year, a different set of circumstances prevailed and we found ourselves without guests.
The Boomerang Child indicated they may pop in with little Poppy (11 months) for an hour or two on their way home from a few days with the parents of Builder Boy but basically it would be just Mrs P and I searching the cupboards and under the sofa for eggs with George The Dog.
No matter. We had lots of those little jobs to get on with. You know the ones. Those "must get round to" things that you, well, never get round to.
But we didn't want to spend the entire weekend busily scurrying away so we decided on two jobs a day, with a walk and some relaxation with a cuppa in between.
Anyway.
For starters I had to shift the debris from the trees I took out six weeks ago and shoved round the back of the house till I could find the time to deal with them. I figured that was the better option of the two jobs available for Friday morning, especially when the other was putting up some new curtains in the lounge.
As it turned out I got called in for the heavy lifting part of that job, Mrs P having done all the intricate stuff like threading hooks and sliders etc.
Naturally before I got within 10 metres of the prized new drapes I was ushered (Read: 'Shoved") into the shower to ensure not even a miniscule particle of debris/muck/dust/sweat/dirt remained on my person to contaminate the light coloured fabric.
I have to say the jobs went well. And that evening, feeling rather content, we pulled the new curtains and settled in for the night, content in the fact we had knocked a couple of things off the list, not killed ourselves (or each other) in the process and managed to get a bit of R and R in too.
Saturday was much the same, and by Sunday we were totally in the relaxed zone with a much shortened To Do list about to be consigned to oblivion.
But later that afternoon the phone rang and everything changed.
The Boomerang Child and her team were heading home and, as promised, would pop in for an hour so we could have a catch up with little Poppy.
Now any grandparent will know when it comes to the littlies you grab any opportunity you can, even if it is for just 3600 seconds (think about it). And so while we waited we rushed around the house doing the things you do when a crawling infant is heading your way.
Up out of reach went everything from the dog bowl to the porcelain duck we got given years ago that neither of us really like but can't bring ourselves to get rid of because it's quirky.
As we did so I mentioned the time to Mrs P.
It wouldn't surprise me going on past experience, I said, if Boomerang Child and her gang had not really considered the lateness of the hour and would probably want to stay for tea, if not the night.
Mrs P was quick to respond in the negative.
"Not with the baby," she said. "They aren't teenagers anymore. They will want to get home to their own place and make their own tea."
The rest of the hour was a bit of a blur to be honest. The gang arrived. Builder Boy and I went back and forth to the car about a dozen times each for "baby stuff" and before you could say "I told you so" the house was in turmoil with an 11-month-old baby ruling the roost.
Somewhere along the line our visitors decided they would stay for tea, oh what the heck, they'd stay for the night too. Mrs P shot me one of those "Don't!!!" looks as she sweetly accepted the invitation she hadn't offered. I tried not to laugh.
So. An hour or so later there we all are watching Poppy tucking into her mashed pumpkin and carrot.
Most of it is going in her mouth but there's a fair bit going everywhere else and, you guessed it, as we all squeal with delight at how clever she is, she throws a big dollop of it over the new curtains.
But don't worry, Super Grandad is there to save the day and he instinctively, which basically means without thinking, wipes it off with the cloth he just happens to be holding.
Only thing is the cloth has just been used to wipe the orange coloured debris from Poppy's face and it's just been transferred to the new curtains in a rather impressive modern art kind of way.
And so that's where we are now.
The Boomerang Child, Builder Boy and Poppy have all gone home and Mrs P and I are taking the new curtains down to see if they can be rescued.
It would be fair to say things are a bit tense at the moment. I did try to lighten the mood by mentioning at least the stain wasn't chocolate. I'm not sure it helped.
I'm just hoping by next Easter she'll be talking to me again.
