Monday, April 17, 2017
Today I am grateful for kitchen table time. On a fluke, the day before Easter, I was remembering sitting at the kitchen table with one of my granddaughters and how wonderful the one-on-one time was. So I texted my oldest granddaughter and asked her if she might be able to come a little early so we could chat. She did. What a gift.
This young woman has it together. When she starts telling a story you have to listen fast because it rattles out of her like gravel coming out of a shoot, with the almost the same sound. Grandpa usually needs an interpreter. She’s moved a bit beyond using “like” in every sentence and as a senior in high school, soon to be college girl, I would expect nothing less.
We talked about her family, her teachers, being a senior, the boyfriend, the bff, college, and just plain foolishness. It was fantastic! And rare. But it’s okay, because I remember what it was like to be that age and I didn’t have much time to fit my grandma into my social life, either. But, oh boy, if my kitchen table could talk. . .