When my washing machine broke while I was babysitting my grandson, I reluctantly headed to the laundromat. A kind stranger offered to help by holding the baby while I sorted clothes. Grateful, I accepted, but when I turned around minutes later, I saw something that made my blood run cold.
I’d been counting down the days, practically bursting with excitement. My first weekend alone with little Tommy, my precious grandson. At 58, I thought I’d seen it all, done it all. But nothing could have prepared me for the rollercoaster of emotions that lay ahead.
The day finally arrived. Sarah, my daughter, and her husband Mike pulled up in their sensible SUV, packed to the brim with what looked like enough baby gear to stock a small daycare.
“Mom, you sure you’re gonna be okay?” Sarah asked for what felt like the millionth time, her brow furrowed with that new-mom worry I remembered all too well.
I waved her off with a confident smile. “Honey, I raised you, didn’t I? We’ll be just fine. Now scoot! You two deserve this break.”
As they drove away, I turned to Tommy, nestled in my arms, his tiny fingers curled around my thumb. “It’s just you and me now, little man,” I cooed. “We’re gonna have the best time.”
I had it all planned out: cuddles, bottles, naps, and playtime, all neatly scheduled. What could possibly go wrong?
Famous last words.
It started with a gurgle. Not the adorable baby kind, but the ominous rumble of my ancient washing machine giving up the ghost.
I stared at the growing puddle on my laundry room floor, surrounded by a mountain of tiny onesies and burp cloths.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered, feeling my perfect weekend plans crumble. Tommy chose that moment to unleash an impressive spit-up all over his last clean outfit.
I took a deep breath. “Okay, Grammy’s got this. We’ll just pop down to the laundromat. No big deal, right?”
Oh, how wrong I was.
The local laundromat was a relic from the ’80s, all buzzing fluorescent lights and the acrid smell of too much detergent.
I juggled Tommy, the diaper bag, and an overflowing laundry basket, feeling like I was performing some sort of demented circus act.
“Need a hand there, ma’am?”
I turned to see a man about my age, all salt-and-pepper hair and a grandfatherly smile.
Under normal circumstances, I might have politely declined. But with Tommy starting to fuss and my arms about to give out, that offer of help was too tempting to resist.
“Oh, would you mind? Just for a moment while I get this started,” I said, relief flooding through me.
He reached for Tommy, his weathered hands gentle as he cradled my grandson. “No trouble at all. Reminds me of when my own were little.”
I turned to the washing machine, fumbling with quarters and detergent pods. The familiar motions were soothing, and I found myself relaxing. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
That’s when I felt it. A prickle at the back of my neck, a sudden silence that felt oppressive. I glanced back, more out of instinct than any genuine concern.
My heart stopped.
Tommy, my precious baby grandson, had something bright and colorful in his tiny mouth. A Tide pod. And that “helpful” stranger? He was just standing there, smiling like everything was fine.
“No!” The scream tore from my throat as I lunged forward, my hands shaking so badly I could barely grab Tommy.
I pried the pod from his mouth, my mind reeling with horrible possibilities. What if I hadn’t turned around? What if he’d swallowed it?
I turned back to the strange man in a fury.
“What were you thinking?” I yelled at the man, clutching Tommy to my chest. “Don’t you know how dangerous these are?”
He just shrugged, that infuriating smile still in place. “Kids put everything in their mouths. No harm done.”
“No harm done? Are you mad?” I snatched up a detergent pod and thrust it toward him. “Here, why don’t you eat one then and we’ll see how it agrees with you!”
The man raised his hands and backed away. “What? No ways. It’s not like he got any, he was just nibbling on the edge…”
“Nibble on the edge then!” I snapped. I was practically stuffing the pod in his mouth at this point, I was so angry!
“Leave me alone, you crazy Karen!” The man tugged the pod from my fingers and threw it aside. “Fine thanks I’m getting for trying to help you.”
I wanted to shake him, to make him understand the gravity of what could have happened. I may well have done something crazy too, but Tommy was crying now, big hiccuping sobs that matched the frantic beating of my heart.
“You, are an absolute menace!” I yelled at the man as I started grabbing my things. “And an idiot, too, if you think it’s harmless to let kids chew on whatever they put in their mouths.”
I snatched up the washing basket, not caring about the wet clothes left behind or the quarters wasted.
All that mattered was getting Tommy out of there, away from that clueless man and his careless disregard for a baby’s safety.
The drive home was a blur. Tommy’s cries from the backseat felt like an accusation. How could I have been so stupid? So careless?
I’d handed my grandson over to a complete stranger, all because I was too proud to admit I might need more help than I’d thought.
Back home, I collapsed onto the couch, Tommy held tight against me. He was still crying, and I couldn’t help wondering if he’d swallowed some of the chemicals after all.
My hands were still shaking as I took out my phone and called my doctor. I couldn’t stop the tears that came, hot and heavy, when the receptionist picked up.
“Miss Carlson?” I sobbed. “This is Margo. Please, can I speak to Dr. Thompson? It’s urgent.”
The receptionist quickly put me through, and I explained everything to Dr. Thompson. He asked me a series of questions, like whether Tommy was vomiting or experiencing any trouble breathing.
“No, none of that, doctor,” I replied.
“It seems like you got lucky then, Margo,” he replied, “but keep a close eye on that grandson of yours and get him to the hospital immediately if he starts wheezing, coughing, or vomiting, okay?”
I promised I would, thanked Dr. Thompson, and ended the call. His words had given me some relief, but the “what ifs” kept playing through my mind like some horrible movie I couldn’t turn off.
What if I hadn’t looked back in time? What if Tommy had swallowed that pod? What if, what if, what if…
As the adrenaline faded, exhaustion set in. But even as my body begged for rest, my mind wouldn’t quiet.
The weight of responsibility I’d taken on hit me full force. This wasn’t like babysitting for a few hours. This was a whole weekend where I was solely responsible for this tiny, precious life.
I looked down at Tommy, now sleeping peacefully against my chest, unaware of how close we’d come to disaster. His little rosebud mouth, the one that had so nearly ingested something so dangerous, now puckered slightly in sleep.
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” I whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. “Grammy promises to do better.”
And in that moment, I made a vow. Never again would I let my pride or anyone else’s apparent helpfulness put Tommy at risk. From now on, it was just us: Grammy and Tommy against the world.
The rest of the weekend passed in a blur of hypervigilance. Every little sound had me on edge, every potential hazard magnified in my mind.
By the time Sarah and Mike returned, I was a wrung-out mess of nerves and sleep deprivation.
“Mom, are you okay?” Sarah asked, concern etching her features as she took in my disheveled appearance.
I plastered on a smile, handing over a happily gurgling Tommy. “Just fine, honey. We had a wonderful time, didn’t we, little man?”
As I watched them drive away, relief and guilt warred within me. I’d kept Tommy safe in the end. But the close call at the laundromat would haunt me for a long time to come.
I trudged back inside, eyeing the pile of still-unwashed laundry. With a sigh, I picked up the phone.
“Hello? I’d like to order a new washing machine, please. ASAP.”
Some lessons, it seems, come at a higher price than others. But if it meant keeping my grandson safe, no cost was too great. After all, that’s what being a grandmother is all about: love, learning, and sometimes, hard-won wisdom.
This GIrl Left Her Family at 14 to Pursue Music in Another Country — Now She’s World-Famous with Guinness Records
This young girl was born into a large, ethnically Albanian family. Her parents moved to London from Albania three years before she was born. She grew up in London for much of her formative years.
However, when she turned 11, her parents told her they would no longer live in London. Instead, they were moving back to their native country. It was the end of primary school for the girl, and all her friends were also going to different schools, but none were in a foreign country.
Despite the significant change, the girl was excited to go to Kosovo and see her cousins who lived there. However, three years later, at 14, she told her parents she didn’t want to live there anymore. She moved away and went on to break Guinness World Records.
The Girl’s Childhood
The girl was born to a Bosnian mother and a Kosovan father. In the 90s, her parents experienced war in their home country. Her mother and father were living with her paternal grandfather, the head of the Kosovo Institute of History.
Although the girl’s grandfather took pride in his career, it ended when the war broke out. She shared:
“Once the Serbians came in, they wanted a lot of the historians to rewrite the history of Kosovo. To change it – that Kosovo was always part of Serbia and never part of Yugoslavia. And my grandfather was one of those people who wouldn’t, so he lost his job because he didn’t want to write a history that he didn’t believe to be true.”
In 1992, the girl’s parents moved from Albania to London to seek refuge from the war. However, their parents stayed behind in Bosnia and Kosovo. The girl’s father never got to say goodbye to his father as he died of a heart attack the year the war ended when the borders were still closed. Despite all the heartache the couple had experienced, they welcomed their daughter in northwest London in 1995.
The girl said that she watched her parents work every day of her life. Her father was working toward becoming a dentist and her mother a lawyer when they were forced to flee their home country. Being in London forced them to take jobs in cafés and bars. They also went back to school.
Although she was proud of her parents growing up, the girl was not always proud of her name, which means “love” in Albanian. Although she is proud of it now, she wanted a more common name growing up. Her name made her feel different from everyone else.
Another thing that embarrassed her growing up was the fact that her parents looked different from others. In school, the boys would tell her how attractive her mother was, and the girls would say the same about her father, which she didn’t enjoy.
As a young girl, she was strong-willed and ambitious. She knew she wanted to be a star and figured she wouldn’t be able to make it happen living in Kosovo.
One day, she sat her parents down and told them she wanted to return to London. She explained that she wanted to be a superstar and knew she would never be able to do it without being in a city like London. She planned to go to the Sylvia Young Theatre School on Saturdays and wanted to be where a lot was happening. She admitted:
“I didn’t think I’d be able to do this on a global scale, living in Kosovo.”
She tricked her parents into letting her go by telling them she wanted to attend an excellent British university and said she would need to do her GCSEs and A-levels in English to get there.
Her parents relented, and when she got back to London, she went to the Sylvia Young Theatre School and began recording demo tapes, which she uploaded to YouTube and Soundcloud.
Although she could have run wild in London without much parental supervision, the girl knew that her parents trusted her, and she needed to uphold her end of the deal. The only parental supervision she had was from the family friends she was staying with while in London. She joked that she was the mom of her friend group and always responsible.
With this responsibility came ambition. The girl knew she wanted to be a star and started contacting producers. When one offered a publishing deal, she found a lawyer who told her not to accept it. He then found her her current manager, leading to her being discovered.
Her love for music, singing, and dancing started when she was very young, putting on performances for her friends and family all the time. She knew she had a natural talent when her singing teacher in London moved her into a class with teenagers when she was nine.
The first concert she attended in Kosovo was Redman and Method Man, as hip-hop was massive in Kosovo then. She also wished to see performers like Nelly Furtado and Pink in her hometown, but they had yet to come.
When she finally became successful, she returned to Kosovo with the Sunny Hill Festival, which brings international artists to Kosovo. She hopes that this festival is something that the people in her hometown can enjoy for many years.
Her younger brother and sister are also interested in the entertainment industry. Her little sister graduated from drama school, and her brother started producing music when he was seventeen. The girl is incredibly proud of her family, especially her parents. She once gushed:
“Everything I speak about comes from my upbringing. Seeing my parents adapt to any situation, raise a family, work many jobs, go to university in the evening… I watched them sacrifice, yet I understand how lucky I am to have a British passport and to have come back to London for my career.”
Her parents’ relationship also challenged the girl because, as she told it, her mother married her first love and first boyfriend. She felt pressure and thought that people saw something was wrong with her because she was single in her mid-20s.
However, she realized that it’s okay to be selfish and work on yourself before getting into a serious relationship and certainly before bringing any children into the world.
Who Is the Girl?
Dua Lipa is the girl with the name she couldn’t stand when she was a little girl. Despite all the adversity she faced growing up, she has now become a world-famous pop star and has broken many records.
In March last year, her song “Levitating” became the longest-charting Billboard Hot 100 hit ever. Her 2020 Thanksgiving weekend Studio 2054 livestream also broke records, amassing over 5 million views, and breaking the Guinness World Record for most tickets sold for a live-streamed concert by a solo female artist. She enjoyed the experience so much that even when she was allowed to tour, she would livestream again.
In 2021, she also became the most listened-to female artist on Spotify, for which she landed another Guinness World Record. However, she remains humble and does not take too much note of the awards she has won, even though she has been nominated for 10 Grammys and has won three.
Lipa’s professional life is going well, and her personal life is on the up, too. She recently gained Albanian citizenship. A video shows her signing the papers and beaming from ear to ear as she is granted citizenship.
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