I Envy My Kids’ Relationship With My Parents
But not for the reason you might think
The storm door opens, then closes with a long creeeeaaaak. From my vantage point in the kitchen, I watch as a black backpack sails over the back of the couch and lands haphazardly on the seat, spewing water bottles and writing utensils from its half-zipped pouch. My ten-year-old is a tall, tan blur as she disappears down the hallway.
“How was your day?” I call. The only response is her sneakers on the hardwood and the click of her bedroom door latching behind her.
The distant sound of a phone ringing, and then, “Hi, Grandma!”
Huh. So this is a thing she does now.
Her giddy voice drifts through the house as she talks to my mother, and then to my father. She giggles as they joke together. When my son sneaks in and makes an appearance, I run in and shout a brief “Hello!” before hauling off a very angry one-year-old and leaving them to their conversation.
And so it goes. Every afternoon, when she comes home from school, my daughter goes to her room and video chats her grandparents. She tells them about her day, about math class and mean girls. She talks to them about her gymnastics tournaments and how her friend, Eva, is giving her the cold shoulder at recess time.
