Grandpa! Grandpa! Grandpa!
Grandpa Harris landed in Oklahoma last week for Thanksgiving. Aliya is now convinced once and for all that all family and friends live at the airport, and when we want to see one of them, we just go and pick them up. The airport exit is 
on our daily route to and from the city, and so I get asked all the time, "Can Aunt Betsy and my cousin Taya come play? Where is my friend Abby? (Sorry, Sandra, you got bumped down the list now that ABBY IS HERE!!!)" Aliya also doesn't understand why we can't just "drive" to see Papa and Mana (a.k.a. Nana). As I pondered on the concept of grandparents, I have concluded to a new definition:
Grandparents = personal playground and activity center for small persons
The relationship between grandparent and grandchild is a mystery. I am convinced that these people are not actually the parents that raised us. Somehow when we weren't looking,
they put aside all the rules and regulations we were raised with and replaced it with things like chocolate cake for breakfast and new toys EVERY time you go shopping.
Somehow our parents traded in their dignity and respect for activities such as crawling around on the floor quacking like a duck to eating that "special" meal prepared with love, spit, and leftovers found on the kitchen floor. Perhaps the ability to express our love for another without any hesitation or limits is warming to the heart. Perhaps that is the secret Grandparents share in the twinkle of their eyes.
Regardless of the reason why they do the things they do, the fact remains that grandparents are very special people with a very special purpose.
