I am sure I must have had pre-conceived ideas about being a grandmother. I believe the primary one was that I didn't become one too early. If you get my drift.
Our grand daughter is now eleven and our grandson, aged six. We have just spent a very lovely weekend with them here at home. The highlight was of course, Aladdin. Who could equal that? However, their company in a sequin-free domestic setting, provided highlights of a different kind.
It was six weeks since they had last visited, abstaining while the house was in turmoil (or was that simply their Grandfather?) and they were impressed and delighted by the changes that had been wrought in the downstairs bathroom and our bedroom.
In a tour of the newly refurbished room upstairs, I showed my granddaughter some of the new items of clothing I'd bought for the holiday. As a devoted fan of Zoella the Vlogger, she has a keen interest in fashion. Seemingly, an hour later her grandfather gave her the same tour.
At tea-time we were sitting at the dining room table together, eating, when she casually announced that she had shown Grandpa all the lovely clothes I'd bought... Now, I am a modern emancipated woman but she saw the look on my face.
"Oh no! I've broken the code!" she cried. We all laughed. Though I knew what she meant, I asked her to explain.
"Oh, it's the Hide-the-Bags routine when we hear Daddy arriving home from work!"
Golly. Where did the little girl who likes dolls, disappear to?
Our grandson is keen on finding out how everything works. From the the toilet roll holder mechanism (may he never lose that talent for replacing the toilet roll) to unscrewing the tiny screws on his Furbie. He came across my Clover pompom-making device. After using it in various configurations to make a Robot or Transformer, he asked for some wool. I duly found him a ball left over from my own semi-successful attempts to make pompoms a while back. We were talking and letting him get on with it. Which is not really what good Grandmas should do.. I looked down five minutes later at his finger which was by now cocooned in yellow wool.
"Why is the top of my finger going purple, Grandma?" he asked, in the spirit of enquiry.
You Tube provided the course of instruction necessary to make a pompom proper, and sure enough, this little lad produced his first. He couldn't wait to take it home to show Ted the dog.
Ted the Shred.
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