Watching this video on JuiceBoxJungle, it seems like everyone's grandparents are spoiling their little grandchildren rotten. And the kids WANT to hang out with their grandparents. What's the deal? Where were these folks when I was growing up?
Now, I loved my mom and my dad's parents immensely. And my stepmom's folks treated me great too, plus they are/were exceptional characters (think Castanza's parents). In fact, there's probably not someone that I respect more in life than my dad's dad, Grandpa Robert. He was a great man, as loving as there can be, as generous as any.
But that doesn't mean it was all-out fun with Grandpa Robert. We'd be much more likely to be spoiled generously rotten with US Savings Bonds, not Sprite. That said, if my bro and I ever wanted to get out of the tri-state area, it would have to be Grandpa Robert and Grandma Edna. In fact, I was 25 years old before I ever was with one of my parents south of Wash DC or north of Boston. We just didn't travel. So, when the grandparents offered to have my bro and I fly down to Florida during their annual pilgrimage, we were all for it. Probably 8 (me) and 10 at the time, we boarded that People's Express flight headed to West Palm with incredible anticipation. Even though we knew that we were in for a few days of retirement community living with grandparents and Aunt Helen and Uncle Mac, it didn't matter. Even though I was about to see Uncle Mac walk around his condo in a t-shirt and nothing else (still burned in my memory), no worries. Even though the 6 hour car trip at 54 MPH was painfully slow. It was all well worth it. For our goal was DISNEY WORLD.
As we arrived at the park on that beautiful sunny day, my smile was a wide as could be. And two hours of rides only widened it. And then came lunch. Sweet! Maybe hot dogs followed by funnel cake with powdered sugar. Or maybe pizza topped off with some shaved ice. The dining choices were limitless. Wait. Why are we going to a park bench and what is grandma pulling out of that large sack that she's been carrying? "Boys, we made lunch for you". Oh, the disappointment! Well I guess PB&J would have to suffice. "Wait...what is this?" "It's a sardine sandwich. That's what we brought and that's what you'll eat." I'm surprised that the Mickey police didn't arrest my grandparents on the spot for this travesty. I'm not sure if the sardines came in some briney mess, or if it was some unknown mayo combo...but regardless, this sandwich was not touching my lips. And kids can't hide their disgust.
I stayed hungry that afternoon. We know that our grandparents weren't exactly happy with our behavior, yet the trip was well worth it.
So, I'm not sure what kind of grandparent I'll be. But I'm pretty sure that at some time, my little grandchild is going to go home and tell his parents that he's (or she's) so hungry because Grandpa would only offer up some borscht and gefilte fish.
Grandpa Robert, Grandma Edna- you will always be with me.
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