It was a lovely Christmas.
Everybody was happy and generous and we all got along.
And my grandparents grow ever fonder of Beau (and, really, how could they not?). On Christmas day, Grandma brought pears for everybody, including "one for the boy."
Grandpa is a tougher nut to crack. He's rather shy and he doesn't open up to new folks (even though Beau isn't new at this point, Grandpa is on a different timeline).
This year, Grandpa opened up and started telling stories. And Grandpa's stories are usually about one thing: WWII. But his stories are GREAT. He met General Doolittle and he served with a member of the Kennedy Clan (not one of the more recognizable names, but still) and he served out in the jungle, where gurkhas guarded the camps at night. Tons of great, great stories.
And I'm glad that Beau got to hear them.
Grandma, who's heard them all a million times, was a little less enthused, because he doesn't tell any stories that include her.
When Grandpa finished his story, Grandma uttered one classic phrase (which ranks up there with Grandmas don't wear fuzzy socks, so let's just forget it!):
AND THEN HE MARRIED ME AND NOTHING EVER HAPPENED AGAIN, THE END.
Thanks for another gem, Grandma. It's just not Christmas without them. :)
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