It’s Thanksgiving Day 2003, and I got to start the day with my oldest grandchild, Bob/Robert, who is 8.
Bob is in that “sweet spot”, between the ages of about 6 to about 10. His younger sister, Emmeline, the middle one, is at the beginning of the same stage.
It’s the best age there is – smart enough to be intrigued with interesting adult-level things, but still innocent enough to be uncorrupted by the cynical and the ugly.
It’s a marvel that these children can be as sweet and good as they are, given what they are exposed to in the everyday media, and it speaks well for their parents.
So, cognizant of the fact that it’s becoming rarer and rarer for multiple generations to live in the same state much less the same town, I’m thankful for my grandkids, that I can spend time with them and get to enjoy their growing-up years.