Grandma Practice

little boy with muddy fingers

I love my cousin’s kids. I can feed them cake for breakfast, buy them a toy train with an ear-piercing whistle, and let them play in the mud.

When I’ve had enough, I get to send them home.

It’s their parents’ problem to deal with their soot-cloaked clothes and sugar-induced hysteria.

I certainly don’t want a toy train with a piercing whistle in my house.

When the time comes, I’m going to be a fabulous grandma.

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