- CRITTER TALK
- NEWS I FIND INTERESTING
I’m sure this isn’t always the case. I’m sure that there are any number of people out there who, for one reason or another, couldn’t stand their grandparents. I am generalizing here and, as a generalization, a remarkable number of children often find themselves closer to their grandparents than their parents.
I certainly was and, indeed, so were many of my friends.
It possibly had something to do with discipline. Parents tend to discipline their children when they feel it is necessary. I’m not talking about physically here, albeit some parents, no doubt, still do give their children a slap.
Grandparents have been there and got the tee-shirt. They are more relaxed now. It isn’t their kids ‘playing up’, it’s their kids kids. The grandchildren are only around to be given treats and enjoyed.
Well, that’s my theory anyway.
I am delighted to announce that, sometime in August of this year, I will become a Grampa. I will not be Grandfather nor Grandad, I will be Grampa.
I have a silver tankard for my grandchild to enjoy – when they are a little older obviously. I have no idea whether it will be a grandson or granddaughter and, frankly, nor do I care. Healthy is just fine.
The tankard is engraved already. “Just in case my grandchild dear – Like your Grampa you love beer”. There is also an Oldham Athletic baby grow on order.
When I mentioned to my daughter’s partner that any grandchild of mine will be an Oldham Athletic supporter – rather than Chelsea or Manchester United – he suggested that ‘disappointment was a good life lesson.’ This clearly shows he understands me, which is impressive as few usually do.
It has also dawned on me that, as I am heading in the direction of grandparenthood, I must be getting old.
Grandparents are you know. Old that is. Well, they are compared to people in their 20’s and 30’s and so forth. That is a slight predicament for us chaps you know.
You see, women grow up and age gracefully. Men just pretend to. Men are invariably 18 in their heads forever. In my case, according to my wife, 16 on a good day is nearer the mark.
I told my daughter that I would be ‘such a good influence’ as a Grampa. I have no idea why she burst out laughing. Odd reaction I thought.
I have long had what I considered to be a cunning plan for immortality. Basically it was very simple. Just keep breathing.
Now I realize that, as I am to become a grandparent, I really am no longer 18 years old, or 16 on a good day for the wife’s benefit. I have more past behind me than future ahead of me. Well, unless my cunning plan works anyway.
Thoughts of mortality occasionally impinge on my usual thoughts of ‘what shall I eat’ and ‘is it too early for beer?’ and ‘have I really smoked 20 already?’ and so on and so forth.
Still. Becoming a grandparent means that I have made it to a far greater age than I thought I would. A far greater age than my contemporaries thought I would.
In my school leaving book, all classmates were invited to predict what they believed may happen to their classmates after they had left school. Several wrote against my photograph ‘Dead by 21’ so, I’ve beaten somebody’s odds anyway!
Life really can be a bitch you know but, looking back, I’ve had a hand in producing a highly intelligent daughter – she has her mothers brains obviously – and now, I will have made it to grandparenthood.
My grandchild will have Scottish and Irish ancestry from my wife. Lancastrian ancestry from me. German ancestry from my daughters partners mother and Italian from his father. His stepfather is half Chinese. I know stepfathers are technically not grandfathers from a ‘blood’ perspective but this one will be because he’s a cracking chap.
Heck of a mix then grandchild of mine eh?
Trying to remember all those ancestry traits when you’re older could well ensure that tankard comes in handy. You’ll need a beer to recover from the mix!
Roll on August. Oh! I’ll be such a good influence won’t I?