If Mom says no, ask Grandma!

The title for this post isn't a Jennifer-ism...it's taken from a magnet my sister and I gave our grandma years and years ago, when I was maybe 7. It's still stuck to her fridge, holding up a photo of me and my cousins sitting in a tree that's long since been made into paper. Not many people are lucky enough to have great grandparents who are young enough to enjoy their grandkids, or live close enough to get to know them. Evan is undoubtedly one of the luckiest little boys ever. He was hand-delivered to our doorstep tonight (thanks, Aunt Allison) after spending a long weekend with my parents and Nate's. And though my mom claims that Evan said, "I want Mommy and Daddy" this afternoon, I still think he was a tad miffed to find himself riding in the back of a Honda tonight, already halfway home by the time he woke up from a nap. Because as much as he likes us, he really, really likes his Mamaw, Grammy, and papaws. And for good reason. Ever seen those hats or t-shirts that say: "If we'd known grandkids were so much fun, we'd have had them first"? That saying was made for our parents.

Grandparents are just cool people. They give you a second ice cream cone with the reasoning it's an excellent source of calcium. They take you on four-hour combine rides and pack you Pringles and juice for lunch. They move all their office furniture to the darkest recesses of the basement so you can have your very own room-away-from-home, and outfit your bed with cooler sheets than the ones Mommy bought. They have donuts and bacon and scrambled eggs for breakfast. They have dogs. They always, always stop at Wendy's. They don't care how many divots you put in the yard when you play golf. They let you watch "Chipmunks: The Squeakquel" and "Cars" as many times as you want. They pull you around the house in a wagon piled with pillows and blankets until you fall asleep. They take you to see movies that cost more than $1, and still spring for popcorn. They send you back home with more stuff than you came with. And they tell you how special and handsome and smart you are, and they hug you extra-tight, and they tell you they don't believe a word when Mommy says you had a melt-down in aisle 5 at SuperTarget yesterday. That must have been some other little boy.

Yes, Evan is very, very lucky. I know, because I was/am lucky, too. One short anecdote I'd like to share:

A few months ago, I hunted down a Hardee's (for anyone too young/cool enough to remember the fast-dying establishment, it's like an old people's McDonald's) and took Evan for the breakfast my papaw and I enjoyed every Saturday morning before we'd go hunting for yard sales--he'd have coffee with a sausage and egg biscuit; I'd get an orange juice with an order of hash rounds. (Yeah, yeah--I know it's hash "browns," but I had my own names for things. I called peppermints "munts" for years; still do, if they're coming out of my grandma's purse. But I digress.) Anyway, I was sorely disappointed in our breakfast. Not only was the interior funky and flashy, but the hash rounds were nothing like what I grew up with...too peppery, too overdone. The orange juice came in a box, not in a cup with the foil lid I used to love punching open with my straw.The only thing unchanged was the median age of the clientele. (Old.) I told Evan I was sorry he would never know Hardee's as I'd known it, and especially sorry he'd never known his great-grandpa, who was the real reason Hardee's had always seemed so special.

On the way out, Evan stopped at the door, turned, waved, and said, "Bye, Papaw." The place was filled with old men, so I'm sure he just assumed they were all papaws...but nonetheless, my eyes immediately welled up. My mom's dad was one special papaw (gosh, I can't even type that without getting teary) and like I've said before, I like to think Evan alone saw an angel in overalls: one of the grandparents who made my childhood so wonderful.

So yes, grandparents are pretty special people, for a million reasons. And I am forever grateful that Evan has four of them to make a million memories with.

My mom (Mamaw) and Evan, during an afternoon in downtown Louisville

Evan and Debbie (Grammy), after Evan's first ride on his pony, Pepper

My dad (Papaw), giving Evan a lift--and some very big gloves--on the way to find last year's Christmas tree

Fred (also Papaw), getting a hug from Evan after the third mule ride of the day

Evan also has some pretty awesome great-grandparents:

My grandma (Grammy Dempster)

My grandpa (Papaw Brewer)

Nate's grandma (Gigi) and her husband, Marvin