Every year my grandchildren would ask me how old I was on my birthday. I would answer, “ten, of course.” My grandchildren would believe me. The next birthday when asked how old I was, I would answer, “ten, of course.”
This year I realized I could not be ten forever. You can only be ten for so many years as a grandmother.
I was ten until my youngest grandson hit age four.
This year, my four year old grandson asked me how old I was. I answered, “ten, of course.”
He replied, “Mema, you are NOT ten. You were ten last year!”
With a knowing smile on his face and very proud of himself, my grandson continued, “you are eleven!”
For my birthday, I received beautiful flowers with a card that read, “Dear Mema, Happy Eleventh Birthday!” Love, Your Grandchildren
Joy,
Mema
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