Sandra and I are just two of the – ah – victims of fallout from the “virtual learning” Mondays decreed by Pitt County Schools. For the past few weeks, we have taken granddaughters Abby and Hannah home with us after church so they could spend the night and do their virtual assignments on Monday. Since Rachel and Joe both are teachers and must report to school on Mondays, they did not want to leave their girls home alone.

Recently, Sara’s daughter Alli, also a Pitt County student, conspired with Abby and Hannah to invade our home for Virtual Learning Monday.

Like Ms. Agatha Hannigan awaking from a drunken stupor, on Tuesdays I end up in the throes of granddaughter hangover. The song “Little Girls” from “Annie” is running through my head:

“Little girls, little girls / – everywhere I turn I can see them. / Little girls, little girls – / night and day I eat, sleep and breathe them. …”

Yes, they are sweet. Yes, they are diligent at doing their school work. Yes, they are loving children.

But they eat like a California wild fire. I had forgotten how much – and how often – children eat. Before they come, Sandra and I do a pantry check to make sure we have enough supplies to survive the invasion.

“Little girls, little girls – why do they always seem so hungry …”

Noise is another factor. When Grandma and I are alone, we hear only the subdued sounds of our voices – or the noise emanating from the TV. When the Gorton girls and their cousin visit, they have an immediate need for attention. They take center stage to talk to us or sing to us. A few times, they morph into drama queens who argue with each other.

“Little girls, little girls … why are they always so noisy …”

Part of virtual learning day includes a 30-minute stint of physical education. During their visit on September 20-21, they decided they would jump rope for PE. Now, I have nothing against jumping rope, but watching these little girls try to jump rope with wrong-sized ropes made my face switch between horror and humor.

I gave them some advice: 1) your ropes are not the right size; 2) to jump rope skillfully, you must develop a sense of rhythm. Rhythm was definitely not their strong suit.

I went inside after the PE session and brought up some You Tube videos that teach the fine art of jumping rope. The little girls were amazed. I think they began to understand why they were having such a hard time. Then I showed a video of a jump-rope competition. My three littles were blown away at the skill these jumpers displayed.

(Don’t tell them, but I ordered adjustable jump ropes for them.)

“Little girl, little girls – you just can’t take them out in public.”

Since Smith’s Café no longer opens on Mondays, I have made Lovick’s Café my Monday go-to place for breakfast. Monday morning I took the she-amigos with me. During the course of breakfast, Alli decided to play with my beard. In a flash, she developed a new beard-based rhyme.

“Santa Claus (stroking the beard down) / Dumbledore (putting her hands around my beard like a scrunchy to form a pony tail) / Knuckle-head (tapping my head with her knuckles) / Go to bed.” Later she added: “Wise one (tapping my head) / Full of fun (patting my tummy).”

As Alli performed her rhyme complete with motions, Abby and Hannah giggled at her – and especially at me. Sometimes they joined the chant. FYI: I am beyond being embarrassed by their shenanigans even when I am the butt of the joke.

I am bracing for the coming Sunday when at least two little girls – maybe three – will again invade my house bringing their own brand of “It’s a Hard Knock Life.”

“We love you, Ms. Hannigan!”

Mike Parker is a columnist for Neuse News. You can reach him at mparker16@gmail.com.