Okay, So I will have to admit. I never imagined I would be “THAT” kind of person. You know the kind, that drag out their photo book, anytime they can corner some unsuspecting soul… stretch out their hand to shake and introduce themselves as “Rhett’s Granny” just knowing they will ask, “who is Rhett”…But yep, pretty much for the last week that is who I have become. I have been that unsuspecting soul.. looking at photos of babies….blindly nodding.. thinking to myself, “yep, that there is a baby,” Wondering what the kool-aide looked like, that got these adults to not be able to talk about anything else….How much they weighed, how long, how long was the labor, what color was his poop.. you know.. all those details that when it isn’t your baby have not appeal…
Now, I have been in love before… I have 4, what use to be adorable babies of my own….perhaps it is because they, not being babies, and are now slightly… if not mostly tarnished, the “new baby smell” is long gone, and their reasons for keeping me up late, less enduring, that makes us grandma’s all the more googlie over our grandchild. But, whatever the reason…. It is truly wonderful.
Funny how grand-babies don’t cry as loud as your babies did… and all their little baby ways are that much more endearing. All the other titles that I have held over the years just seem to fade into the backdrop in priorities as I hear myself say, Just call me Granny.
A Cowgirl Called 