It’s been a while since I had breakfast with my grandparents. I forgot how much fun and interesting spending time with them could be. Good thing I was reminded of it earlier today when my sisters and I took our grandparents out to breakfast.
I was taking a bite off my mushroom and cheese ciabatta when my grandfather asked, “Kathryn, how many Spanish units did you take?”
“Just two,” I replied.
My grandmother, who studied in an all-girls school, said, “The only thing I remember about studying Spanish was that my professor was a man, we called him Señor, and that my classmates made him cry a lot.”
“Girls are horrible,” my grandfather said with his trademark mischievous grin.
He was joking of course, as he usually does whenever he’s in the mood to relive childhood which, I must say, happens quite often.
My sisters and I feigned shock and acted like we were insulted. My grandmother laughed.
I turned to her and said, “Did you hear what he said? Your husband just called you horrible.”
She laughed some more before saying something that made me think and made me even more grateful to have such wonderful people in my life.
She said, “You know, when the person is in front of you, he doesn’t mean it. When he’s behind you, that’s when he does.”