So my grandson, Little Man, is on spring break this week, which means a sleep-over at Grammy’s house. That means me. I’ve held him in my arms and rocked him to sleep. I’ve read multitudes of books over the years to put him to bed. We’ve play UNO and Bingo and Monopoly and every game you can imagine putting off bedtime, and I don’t care because I’m Grammy, and you’re supposed to get to do stuff you want to at Grammy’s house. But tonight, He informs me, on his own, that he guesses he better take his bath and get ready for bed. Without being told. Without bargains. And there he stands looking me nearly eye to eye and he’s only ten years old, and I see the beginnings of the man he’s going to be. I think I’m gonna like the Big Man as much as I like my Little Man. He’s sitting beside me playing Mario Cart on his DSI 3D and I think he’s so deep into the game that he doesn’t even notice I’ve changed the channel from SpongeBob Square Pants to Project Runway AllStars when he suddenly looks over at me and says… “Hey Grammy.” I think uh-oh. Busted. But when I look at him and say ‘what’, he gives me the same little grin I used to get just before he would fall asleep in my arms, and he says in a little boy voice – “I love you.” Heart melted. In a puddle. At my feet. Just like the first time I saw him in his mother’s arms. I loved him then. He loves me now. It’s a mutual admiration society thing. FYI… being a grandmother rocks.