So the offspring is on track to visit the old people, driving through all the day (and night). Chicagoland in February? What's not to like?
Thus a family visit reduces the household to chaos in the mad rush to obtain groceries, sort out the bedding, clean the house… I foolishly ask "is she going to care if the ceiling fans are clean?" When the wife is in her "white tornado" frenzy, I've learned to just stay out of the way. I apply labor at the proper time, "can you hold this?" or operate difficult or awkward apparatus, "vacuum the couch cushions," but mostly I just try to look busy.
When it's like this outside:
What little sun there is we are absorbing like an old hound.