First I was a Great-Mom……..according to my kids. (mostly when they wanted something?) Then the day I saw my first grandchild. I was Grandma. I did not mess around trying to find another title that would not give my age away.
Besides, I actually was sorta young to be a Grandma so what the heck? Now 22 years and 6 grandkids later, disaster looms.I was just Grandma from the beginning. I have been told I am a GREAT Grandma in the emotional sense. The kids have loved my snack plates and cub drinks and I am considered the Queen-of-cozy.
There is a big chance I could become a GREAT-Grandma before I go to the big housewife kitchen in the sky! I am not happy about this at all.
Oh sure, I will be a sorta young for a GREAT-Grandma; that is not the point. I don’t want that title so soon. It should be posthumously awarded or something.
GREAT Grandmother?? Say what? And some of you doe-eyed women out there dreaming about the day your kids, grandkids and great-grandkids will gather around you sitting at your feet honoring you? Well you have been watching too much Oprah or you are addled at an early age. Ain’t gonna happen.
Why? Because by the time the Title of GREAT comes your way, the people who made you that are scattered to the winds. Moved to places you can’t even spell. This title enters me into the category of the obligatory Sunday phone call and tacky greeting cards sent twice a year.
Maybe this explains why old people become child-like in their old age? The urge in me to go backwards—right now!— is very strong. Don’t want that title.