Yes, Dear

The fundamental difference between parents and grandparents can be expressed in a single word: NO.
Apparently, the word has been eliminated from grandparents' vocabulary. "Can we eat waffles for breakfast, lunch, and dinner?" Yes. "Can we leave every room looking like a post-apocalyptic war zone?" Why, yes. Can we have dessert after eating all of our waffles?" Of course. "Do we need to look after our own things, be responsible for our own sweatshirts, feed ourselves?" I will do those things for you, my loves. Do not trouble yourselves.
It kills me. I know it's the prerogative of the grandparent to spoil the children. I understand it's in the best interest of the child to seek out the spoiling. I remember doing it myself. But, man, it is a test of my parental fortitude.
I can tell my kids to sit at the table while eating, only to return to them picnic-ing on the kitchen floor with grandma's seal o' approval. I can ask them to clean up their lethal Lincoln Logs only to find Grandma kneeling over the mess. M looks at me as though he is in a strait jacket. He strains against the restraints yet abstains from comment. I can see it in his eyes.
I concede. I give up. I will be in charge again, whether I want to be or not. Inevitably the responsibility will fall back to me and my children will be reminded of "No" and "Can't" and "Won't" and "Forget it." But for now, they are being spoiled rotten. It is my job to stand by and take it. Grrr