The Importance of Grandparents

One time when I was old enough for this to be embarrassing, I got stuck up a tree.

I'm not 100% sure what I thought I was doing. I think I was pretending to be a cat... and then I started climbing down the tree, got to the very lowest branch which was about 1metre up... and I freaked.

Sara tried all the ways she could think of to coax me down. Then I started crying. So when that failed she went inside and called dad, and the two of them came out, realised how stupid the situation was, and started to tease me. Eventually they got bored and went inside and just left me out there.

I hung on and sniffled to myself for a bit longer. Then I realised that I had extracted all the pity and sympathy possible from the situation, I decided that enough was enough and I had to get out of this tree. So I did this ridiculous sort of barrel roll thing and landed on the grass. Then I ran to my grandma's house (which is 4 houses up from us) and she listened sympathetically for hours while plying me with chocolates and cakes as I explained in a mix of english and broken hungarian how frightened I'd been and how cruel my family had been.

If there's one thing grandparents know how to do, it's ply their grandchildren with sugar.

My other set of grandparents are also pretty incredible. They had 9 kids and as a result I am one of 27 grandchildren. Despite this huge number, they still rememeber and call each and every one of us on our birthday.

My Pop is a particularly interesting guy. He takes it upon himself to ask me the hard hitting questions in life, like about the status of my soul (which he wasn't 100% pleased with my answer). Or informing me of the dangers of the' young bucks' in America who would 'pounce on you like fresh meat'. He seems to have a bit of a thing against Americans and took it upon himself to turn Jacob from America into 'Clyde from India' whenever he asked how he was going. It seemed to bring him a bit more piece of mind, though it never really made sense to me... :/
As awkward as it sometimes can be to have these conversations, I've grown to appreciate them as I get older. I understand that if he didn't ask them and if something happened to me, it would weigh down on his conscious for the rest of his life. Thats love for you. And its a type of love grandparents do best.

It's an awkward question, fattening, in-my-day-stories, excessive hugs, sugar high kind of love. In which really, you can do no wrong. Aren't grandparents great?