I have a miserly, grouchy, all over very mean grandfather--except when it comes to his grandkids. He just loves us. Not his kids, not his spouse(s), but his grandkids.
I feel the best way to explain him is this. He liked to give gifts to us. When I was one year old, I was given my choice of any knife from his collection. When I was thirteen, he gave me a set of swords. When I was eighteen, he gave me a loaded pistol. Dude was fucking hardcore.
But I think the thing I will always remember him by is when I would come home from kindergarten. He loved me because I loved all of his weapons and would always ask him about them, so he always doted on me a bit more than the others. So, I suppose as an act of goodwill, he bought me dinosaur oatmeal as a kid. Now, I hated oatmeal, but I loved dinosaurs (which he knew), and I loved my grandpa, so I ate them rabidly. Everyday, I would come home from school with him and eat a bowl of oatmeal.
I am now twenty, but he still has dinosaur oatmeal just in case I come over. I think it's even still the stuff he had back then. I haven't eaten any since I was six, but that man still occasionally asks if I want some as a joke.
...I should probably call him sometime. Love that guy.
SaintVanilla on July 9th, 2017 at 04:11 UTC »
Wait! Let me write you a 5 dollar check for your birthday.
smileedude on July 9th, 2017 at 04:49 UTC »
Interrogator: Show me where the files are.
Grandma: Ok Ok.
clicks on the folder once
Interrogator: you have to double click.
clicks once then moves the folder
Interrogator: NO, double click
rename file comes up
Interrogator: For fucks sake, I give up.
Quote_Poop on July 9th, 2017 at 05:37 UTC »
I have a miserly, grouchy, all over very mean grandfather--except when it comes to his grandkids. He just loves us. Not his kids, not his spouse(s), but his grandkids.
I feel the best way to explain him is this. He liked to give gifts to us. When I was one year old, I was given my choice of any knife from his collection. When I was thirteen, he gave me a set of swords. When I was eighteen, he gave me a loaded pistol. Dude was fucking hardcore.
But I think the thing I will always remember him by is when I would come home from kindergarten. He loved me because I loved all of his weapons and would always ask him about them, so he always doted on me a bit more than the others. So, I suppose as an act of goodwill, he bought me dinosaur oatmeal as a kid. Now, I hated oatmeal, but I loved dinosaurs (which he knew), and I loved my grandpa, so I ate them rabidly. Everyday, I would come home from school with him and eat a bowl of oatmeal.
I am now twenty, but he still has dinosaur oatmeal just in case I come over. I think it's even still the stuff he had back then. I haven't eaten any since I was six, but that man still occasionally asks if I want some as a joke.
...I should probably call him sometime. Love that guy.