And What I Think About It...
(Foreword to my relatives: Relax -- no one in the family is having a baby.)
Today, I became a grandma for the first time.
I was pushing my shopping cart through the cereal aisle in WalMart, A cute little girl about two years old was sitting in the kiddy seat of another cart waiting for her mom to get done picking out cereal. When I paused to get a box of raisin bran, I noticed that she was staring at me intently.
I smiled at her, and she said, "Grandma!" Then she grabbed her mom's arm and said, "Mommy, there's Grandma!" (Actually, she pronouced it, "Gam-ma.")
So, I said, "Hi, honey." And her mom said, "Oh no, that's not Grandma." And the little girl said sadly, "Oh."
So I didn't get to be her grandma for long, but it was nice while it lasted.
I still remember the first time I was ever called "Ma'am." I remember the first time a sales clerk ever said, "This lady needs some help." I remember when my children first learned to say "Mama."
And today was the first time anyone ever called me "Grandma." The little person who called me that was excited and happy. I'm glad that she likes her real grandma.
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5 comments:
I feel for you. I visited a younger friend's family for dinner one night. His little boy, about two or so, thoght I was his grandfather. Maybe my white goatee had something to do with it. At least everyone got a good laugh.
I thought it was kind of cool, actually. But you know, I got to thinking that it really wasn't the first time I was called Grandma. It was just the first time a little child called me that.
Here's the story of the other time -- I was 38 when my son was born, so I was a little older than some moms. When he was sick one time, I took him to the pediatrician who asked me if I was my son's grandmother! I was a little irritated about that.
Ha!. My wife (don't tell anyone I told you she's 54) still can't stand it when sales people call her "ma'am." Personally, I don't mind when they call me "sir." It's even funny when the little kids behind the fast-food counter give me the senior's discount. I don't complain about that. Of course I'm not really that far from actually qualifying.
I love looking like a grandma and not actually being one!
In 1984 my toddler riding in the grocery cart announced to everyone in the Hinky Dinky on Ames Street that the elderly gentleman wearing a hat and buying breakfast cereal was "Cowboy!" I wonder if that geezer went home feeling a bit more like a bucking bronc rider.
It probably made the old fellow's day!
Regarding cowboy hats: A few days ago, Dennis pointed out the hat that an elderly man was wearing -- a nice western hat, maybe a Stetson, with a fairly short brim.
Dennis was so busy admiring the gentleman's hat that he didn't notice (until I pointed it out) that the man was also wearing his gun! Better not mess with that grandpa!
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