Bop Til I Drop

It's fun to not say no. I like not setting limits.

Of course, I could only be talking about grandmothering. Generations of grandparents have discovered this before I did. My daughter says it takes several days of detox for my grandson after he returns from a visit with me. I try to express sympathy but, secretly, I'm proud.

Yesterday morning my grandson and I danced. Sometimes we've joined hands and danced, but this time he wanted me to pick him up and carry him as I twirled and dipped. We put our cheeks together for a while, then he'd pull away and clap his hands together. His mother danced near us, and her dramatic moves made him shriek with delight.

I've never been an especially good dancer. Nor have I been known for my agility, strength or gracefulness. But my grandchild thinks I can-- and should-- be able to do anything he asks. If that means dancing, then by golly this granny is gonna move.

Part of the reason I'm able to follow my heart and do whatever he wants is that his parents set the necessary limits. I'm glad they do. I value them. But I don't want to be them. I want to be the granny who bops 'til she drops.