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Location: Jefferson City, Tennessee, United States

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Thursday, March 24, 2005

There Is No Magic...

that makes you a good grandmother. I think I'm a horrible grandmother. If it is true that being a grandparent is the reward for allowing your children to reach adulthood, I made a mistake somewhere.

It's not that I don't like my grandkids. They have possibilities. But I don't like it when their mother drops them on my husband and me and goes to another state. It seems that is always the time when hacking coughs descend. Strange food likes and dislikes surface. And I've had enough Sesame Street!

It takes a while for a grandchild to grow on me -- fourteen years seems like the right length of time. If I can squint my eyes to block out the worst of the wardrobe choices. And don't get me started on amores du jour! All I can hope for is that wisdom and grace will come with age.

All in all, I'm hoping they get some of my good genes -- not that I have many. But I still have hope.


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