My great-granddaughter, Makayla, her mother, DeeDee, and an uncle, Quinton, (the latter pair are grandchildren who used to live with me) visited me the other night at Pickett Place.

Only now is my blood pressure lowering, the nervous tick disappearing from my face, life returning to normal. Makayla, 2, is a terrorist. She belongs on a watch list by someone who can see.

Not only is she cute, but also she is out of control, which means she’s doubly dangerous.

Not that her mother and uncle don’t try to keep her in line, when visiting me. They know how grumpy grandpa can be, whenever someone disturbs his precious stuff.

And when I’ve had enough and dare to try to punish her, she doesn’t cry. She screams a high-pitched wail that is known to alter the path of the geese flying overhead.

While the two grandchildren and I try to engage in conversation (they are young adults), Makayla goes about her merry way, ransacking the old guy’s apartment.

After the latest visit — one I welcome despite the pint-sized Osama — I discovered the next day a magnifying glass was broken, another flashlight missing, the wheels were off a model car and a trail of Altoids breath mints led to Makayla’s favorite hiding place in my closet, where I discovered a half-eaten apple.

Makayla is part-Chuckie — a mischievous leprechaun, whose sole purpose is to get into trouble, say “I’m sorry” and get into more trouble.

Sometimes I think there is more than one of her. Halloween is coming and she could be possessed.

I may be young at heart, but I’m older in other places. My tiny tormentor, Makayla, on the other hand, has her life in front of her.

I’m a vulnerable adult. I broke down in tears the other day trying to fold a fitted sheet. Then, I discovered a sprinkled donut on the floor beneath the kitchen table with the donut still there, but the sprinkles missing. Another Makayla act.

It was another reminder that I must take charge of the small things — even great-granddaughters — in life. Be proactive; not reactive. And demand her mother give me fair warning when she is bringing Makayla to visit me so I can move all of my stuff to a storage locker.

Minor irritants can accumulate to major annoyances.

For years, I thought I was wearing somebody else’s pants.

Look at your zipper, fellas. See the initials YKK? It stands for Yoshida Kogyo Kabushibibaisha; it’s the world’s largest zipper manufacturer.

I had thought somebody switched jeans with me in the laundromat.

This is embarrassing, I know, but I just took a leaflet out of my mailbox informing me that I can have sex at 85. Spent all last night looking for that apartment number, but couldn’t find it. Then I got the joke.

I’ve got to ignore such distractions and learn to focus. Makayla is rattling me. She’s pushing my buttons, getting under my skin and … and … she’s behind me. Isn’t she? Looking over my shoulder. Thank God she can’t read yet. I’m doomed. My great-granddaughter has has stolen my heart and … and … WHERE’S MY WALLET?

Attention: Seats have finally been installed on the swings at Todd Park just in time for the winter swinging season.

Visit Todd Park today with the kids and go for a swing.

Austin Park and Rec: “We get it right eventually,” is our motto.