The Biggest Rockstar Grandparent in the History of Forever
What if you could be exactly that for the small humans ripe to connect with you?
There’s a girl in my life, name of Bev.
Well, Beverly Jane, if you like.
She’s three-and-a-half, with auburn curls that hang nearly to her waist now, and hazel eyes. She calls me Mimi, and she almost always yells it. “Mimi!” “MIMI!!”
Anyone else yells my name at that volume and with that level of insistence, I’m likely to cock an eyebrow at them. Maybe come a tad bit unglued, even.
Beverly Jane yells it? I’m likely to drop everything and run and see what she wants.
And she pretty much feels the same way about me.
You don’t believe me?
I recently returned from a trip to Paris. The afternoon I flew in, Miss Beverly Jane and her little brother happened to be at my house when I got home from the airport.
Beverly heard the door open. From the family room, she saw me walk in and set my luggage down. “Mimi?” she said, her eyes widening. “MIMI!”
In her excitement, she started toward me like some cartoon character whose feet can’t get purchase for wheeling too fast. As she raced…
