Spoiled Rotten

Every time Marta goes to Mimi and Papa's house, it's the same story. Marta gets taken out for pizza, and later, she is treated to some carvel ice cream. I wonder if it's because my folks think that if they can't get her to sleep the old fashioned way, they can feed her until she passes out.

Or maybe, it's just because my folks like to eat, and want to share their love of food with their only grandchild. Or maybe it's really because they are spoiling her rotten, and always have spoiled her, with gifts, clothes, and personal pizzas.

I think it might be all of the above, and I have to say, I'm a bit jealous. My grandparents were not the caricatured American grandparents (which are what my parents are becoming).

One grandfather was deceased. He indulged me with his genetics (of all my grandparents I look most like him).

The other grandfather - Jerry - well, he was a bit anxious. He indulged me with colorful vocabulary, like the word "floozy," or bags of coins he hid in his office and then told me to find.

Grandma Peg? She indulged me alright - in stories of southern poverty, wiping your rear with corncobs and the Sears catalog and, of course, stressing that I should get an education and drink a lot of water.

My Mom's mom? She made sure I ate fattening and good foods whenever I was at her house and made sure I drank a lot of sweet lemonade, but there were no personal pizzas or small buckets full of ice cream. She had eight other grandkids to worry about - and I was in the middle.

Marta is a lucky girl to be spoiled so rotten. :)