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.
He lived on the margins and ate food from dumpsters – yet he managed to become an iconic actor and a father of 4 heirs
Life hasn’t been easy for Michael J. Fox of late.
The much-loved actor has been locked in a battle with Parkinson’s disease for many decades now, and as one can imagine, that’s not a fight that gets easier with time.
But did you know that Michael’s childhood was quite tough – and he faced significant challenges when trying to break through in Hollywood.
Overall, Michael J. Fox’s life has been a great success – even though his Parkinson’s Disease has taken its toll on him.
First of all, Michael’s upbringing was pretty unusual.
Born on June 9, 1961, in Edmonton, Canada, he grew up with a father who worked in the Canadian Armed Forces, and therefore, the family moved around a lot.
Michael’s mom was a payroll clerk, so she had a steady job – but Michael grew upp in a typical blue-collar home. Finally, the family settled in Burnaby, British Columbia, and Michael J. Fox found his passion for acting in junior high.
He joined the Drama division at school, and it was evident he was a talented actor. Per his website, his theater teacher encouraged him to audition for a Canadian Broadcasting Corporation series, Leo & Me, and Fox got the part.
He got several roles on television and, at the same time, worked at the local theater in Vancouver. Michael J. Fox had decided that acting was his call in life at that point. At the age of 17, he packed his bags to pursue an acting career in Los Angeles.
“I knew that if I wanted to be someone, I couldn’t just sit on my parents’ porch and think, ‘Boy, if I was only born in the States and my parents had money and weren’t living paycheck to paycheck, I could do something with my life,’” he said.
Fox dropped out of high school, and his parents always supported his big dreams. His father even drove him all the way to Los Angeles. Speaking on LIVE with Kelly and Mark recently, Fox said he still doesn’t know how he convinced his father to do it.
“I told him that I wanted to go to Los Angeles, I knew I wanted to go to the United States, I knew I wanted to be an actor. My father, I know, thought I was a hippie. He looked me in the eyes and said, ‘If you want to be a lumberjack, you might as well go to the forest.’ So he got me in the car and drove me to California,” Michael J. Fox recalled.
Making it big in Tinseltown, though, was easier said than done. Michael didn’t have the best starting point; he came from a working-class family and didn’t have much wealth to his name.
“I was living on the margins. I was 18 years old, with no money, no connections, literally dumpster diving for food,” he told Variety in 2023.
Fox fulfilled his dream of becoming an actor, and after only a few years, he got one of his most memorable roles. He was cast as Alex P. Keaton on the comedy series Family Ties, which became one of the biggest comedy series on television.
Not long afterward, he landed other parts, including his legendary role as Marty McFly in Back to the Future.
In 2022, he revealed his mother never supported him taking on the role in Back to the Future. And it seems like she had good reason not to support it either.
When he got the role, he was already working during the day on Family Ties. He revealed when he told his mother about the role in the movie, she advised against it. The actor recalled their exchange, “I was 23 years old, and I called her, she was in Canada, and I said, ‘They want me to do this Steven Spielberg movie, but I have to do it at night and I have to do Family Ties in the daytime.’ And she said, ‘You’ll be too tired.’”
But he went on to admit that his mother might have been right, he said, “I live for this kind of tired. It’ll be okay,” he had said to his mom, “To this day — well, till two weeks ago — my mother thought it was a really bad idea for me to do Back to the Future. She loved the movie, [but she was right], I got tired.”
On the set of Family Ties, he met Tracy Pollan. They were cast as each other’s love interests on the show. Sparks were only on-screen at the time, but a few years later, they’d reunite and fall in love.
Even so, Michael J. Fox already had a crush on Tracy while working on Family Ties.
“I developed a crush on her right away. When she left the show – the day she left the show, we were in the parking lot getting into our respective cars. She was getting into a rented Volkswagen, and I was getting into my Ferrari. And she called me over and said she wanted to play me a song. She played me a James Taylor song called That’s Why I’m Here, which was ostensibly about John Belushi. And one of the lines was, ‘John’s gone, found dead, died high. He’s brown bread, later said to have drowned in his bed. After the laughter, the wave of dread, it hits us like a ton of lead. That’s why we’re here,’” Fox recalled in an interview with NPR.
Michael J. Fox and Tracy Pollan tied the knot in 1988. They welcomed four children: Sam Michael Fox (born in 1989), twins Schuyler Frances and Aquinnah Kathleen (1995), and Esmé Annabelle (2001).
By the way, did you know that Michael Fox didn’t initially have the “J” in his name? Once in Hollywood, he attempted to join the Screen Actors Guild (SAG), the labor union for film and television workers worldwide. However, when applying, he saw that there was another member named “Michael Fox.” Therefore, Fox added a middle initial to his name, choosing “J” as an homage to his favorite actor, Michael J. Pollard.
Michael J. Fox officially retired from acting in 2020 at 60 years old and having just starred as Louis Canning in CBS’s legal drama “The Good Fight”, a spin-off to “The Good Wife” where his character first appeared.
“I reached the point where I couldn’t rely on my ability to speak on any given day, which meant I couldn’t act comfortably at all anymore. So, last year I gave it up,” he said of his decision to retire, as per Good Morning America.
When Fox was first diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease he reportedly started drinking heavily. Thankfully, he stopped, sought help and was brave enough to disclose his condition in 1998. Since then he has been a strong advocate and inspiration to those battling with the disease.
Since 2000, the Michael J. Fox Foundation has raised more than $750 million to help find a cure for Parkinson’s.
Michael J. Fox’s life is a testament to the power of perseverance and resilience.
Despite hailing from a humble working-class background and facing numerous obstacles along the way, Fox rose to become an iconic figure in the entertainment industry. His story reminds us that with determination, hard work, and unwavering passion for our dreams, we can overcome any challenge.
So let’s celebrate Michael J. Fox not only for his remarkable talents but also for his inspiring journey that continues to inspire countless individuals worldwide.
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