Ring! Ring!
“Hello.”
“Hello, this is your daughter.”
“I know. I have this amazing phone. It tells me who's calling before I answer. And please notice I answered even though I knew it was you.”
“Funny. Very funny. Look, we need to have a serious talk. I need your advice.”
Immediately I perked up. This child became independent around the age of seven. She's in her forties now. Imagine the thrill of having her ask for my advice. “Okay,” I said, “how can I help you?”
“We need to talk about your number two granddaughter. She's becoming a little presumptuous, and we need a united front in talking to her.”
“What do you mean, presumptuous?”
“Look, now let me get this completely out before you respond. Deal?”
“Deal.”
“We're really grateful you take them on your little adventures. We're even grateful that you took them to live in the Alaskan wilderness for two weeks last summer. We're even grateful, in a weird way, that they came home thinking they were completely self-sufficient, could conquer any problem, and suddenly thought there was no reason they couldn't be independent. We're really grateful for that. But we've encountered a problem.”
“What's the problem?”
“Okay, so, your number one granddaughter loves dancing. And because she suddenly thinks because she climbed the face of a glacier and survived with only a knife in the Alaskan wilderness she can confront any challenge. We love that you gave her that confidence. And we love that because of that she auditioned to attend a workshop and dance with the Rockettes in New York City. That's really wonderful. And we're grateful that you're taking her and spending the week with her there.”
“I get the feeling there's a 'but' coming.”
“There is. Remember, you took both of them to Alaska. You spent all that time with them both. Now, the younger one has the idea that because her older sister is going to New York City with you she automatically gets to, also.”
I started to interrupt her, but interrupting my daughter is one of life's greater challenges.
“The other day I heard her talking to a friend on the phone. Apparently her friend asked her if she wanted to go to some event this summer, and when the friend told her the date she said, 'I'm going to be in New York City that week.' When she got off the phone, I asked her how she planned to go to New York City. Her response was she was going with you and her sister. And on top of that she volunteered the information that while her sister was at her dancing she and you would be exploring the city.”
Again I tried to say something, but her vocal motions were in high gear.
“Then I asked her what made her think that just because her sister was going she would get to go too. She informed me that you and her sister were a team and always went somewhere together in the summer. I asked her if you'd asked her to go. She said, 'Not yet.' Look, Dad, she assumes that you're taking her. I need you to intervene with me.”
“Intervene? What would I intervene about?”
“About her unrealistic expectations.”
“They're not unrealistic.”
“What?”
“I'll call and invite her tonight.”
And that, right there, is what makes you The Good Grandpa.
Posted by: Jane Ellen+ | April 30, 2013 at 12:16 AM
Parson, as always you inspire me. In about 5 weeks, I will take my son and two grandkids to Yosemite. My son dearly loves Bridal Veil falls (I can't keep him out of the stream.) Really looking forward to the trip. Peace, Curtis
Posted by: Curtis Grissett | April 30, 2013 at 06:48 PM