That’s what it says — ’and ten.’ And I haven’t done a thing I’ve wanted to do. I’m afraid to do the things I want to do. We all are, because of our sons and daughters. Ten years. I don’t want to spend those ten years taking care of my daughter’s children. I’ve taken care of my own. A good job, too. No one helped me. No one helped me. What’s the matter with these modern mothers, with their newfangled methods and their efficiency and all? Maybe I’m an unnatural grandmother, but I’m going to tell Marcia the truth. Yes, I am. If she asks me to stay home with Joan and Peter to-morrow, while she and Ed go off to the country club, I’m going to say, ‘No!’ I’m going to say, ‘Listen to me, Ed and Marcia. I don’t intend to spend the rest of my life