Firstly, I´ve had far too many of them, although I don’t complain as I am always very aware that not all of my friends have had the same privilege.
One of the less great things about my job is being away for many birthdays and other such festivities, and recently I missed my first grandchild becoming a teenager.
A TEENAGER??? I CANT have a grandchild that’s a teenager? What? Whilst I am aware how these things happen, and have vague memories of such, I cant understand how such a thing has happened. A teenage grandchild?
When I next saw said grandchild though, we went for some retail therapy for her. Having seen prices rise horrendously in the UK since my departure I know that the therapy wasn’t for me, but a new pair of trainers and an ice cream later she was happy and I pretended to not be crying about the hole in my wallet.
The thing was though, the good thing and the thing that is making me smile as I’m enduring yet another shift in the desert, is that it was the first time since she was a tiny baby that I’ve actually spent more than two minutes on my own with her. Being so elderly I forget that young people are actually just adults in waiting, and walking around the shopping centre talking about such diverse subjects as her upcoming skool trip to my adopted country, African politics, music (her asking me if I’d ever heard of Oasis still doesn’t sit easily. I’m hoping she meant that I must be too young rather than the other option) grammar lessons and myriad other things made me realise what a good job her parents and the education system are doing in helping this young bud blossom into a beautiful flower.
Ahhh, grandkids. I’ve said it before and I’ve no doubts I’ll say it again. I don’t know who invented them but they should be given a medal.