Something very unusual is happening in my life right now and I’m not sure what to think. I should backup a minute and tell you a little bit about myself or rather my status in life. I’m a new grandmother. There I said it … the word grandmother. My grandkid calls me GB, which is shorthand for Grammy B.
I always thought if I was one, I’d be the coolest grandma alive. I’d drink a little wine; smoke one of those skinny cigars and give free advice about anything from love and marriage to raising kind children. In my mind, I’d have just right the figure to wear the latest clothes. I’d know all the words to the latest blues, hip-hop or pop songs and be able to dance to them too. I don’t know why I thought about that last part. I’m clumsy, left-footed and I’m tone deaf too.
So anyway when my kid turned 25, I thought. I’m going have me grandbaby while I’m still young enough to get on the floor and play with him or her. Alas that was not be. My kid’s twenty-five quickly turned into thirty and thirty to thirty-five then to forty. Oops. Let’s back up again. At thirty-nine, my kid had a kid. At sixty-nine with creaking knee bones, hands that don’t grip as well as they used to and retired for three years, I finally met my kid’s kid. She’s a humdinger as my own grandmother would say if she was still on this earth.
I watched my grandkid use her mother’s cell phone to scroll down, tap on Netflix to watch a movie called Sofia. She knew how to lower the volume on the movie or raise it. She knew how to pause the movie, or skip to the parts she liked. She played the same movie over and over or she selected another movie she liked.
I consider myself fairly computer literate but this kid has me beat by a country mile. She knew how to go into Y-Tube to find kiddie movies too. Her mother didn’t like that too much and took the cell phone away. Her mother said there were too many other things that weren’t PG, that three-year old might bump into on Y-tube. Yep, I said my grandkid is only three-years old and she knows how to use a smartphone better than I do. Imagine that, huh?
I doubt very much if I’ll be that cool, dancing, cigar-smoking grandma of my imagination. More than likely I’ll be the lady with the salt and pepper hair who limps a bit on bad knees; who doesn’t own smartphone but can answer almost any question my grandkid asks or I know how to find out the answer. And one more thing, I love my grandkid with a passion and huge heart.
Thanks for reading.
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