I got an email from my Mom the other day that said, “Good for you for sticking to your guns about the candy.” It really wasn’t hard. I learned from the best.

 
I’ve recently had a better understanding of Grandparent-context. You see, 35 years ago when I was the kid running around the baseball field “watching” my brothers at one of their 24 weekly sporting events, trying to wow the crowd with a bent kneed cartwheel stopping at nothing to have someone throw me a quarter to buy 25 licorice (yep, it was that cheap) because I knew my parents wouldn’t. When I say wouldn’t I mean, Would. Not. Not ever. Never. I had to beg, perform party tricks, offer to clean the community bathrooms (port-a-potty) so someone volunteering for the Kiwanis Club would hand me a candy during the game. I would ask if my Grandparents were going to be at the game (they almost always were) and then double-fist-pump, I am totally getting money for candy. That’s just how these things work.

 
If I had said, “Can I have money to buy a sucker?” My Mom would remind me that there was a perfectly good carob loaf in the trunk pressing leaves from our earlier nature hike and I could help myself to that. Within moderation would be shouted at me as I slunk over to the trunk.

 
My how things have changed.

 
I’m gaining some insight into how this whole grandparent thing works.

 
Grandparents don’t see the tantrums at the house over lunch when one kid says, “I’m not hungry, I’ll starve.” One kid refuses to eat carrots because her eyes are already “the best they’ll ever be” and one kid wants white bread with butter only and will not have anything to drink unless it’s through a straw and as long as it’s not made from a carrot.

 
I don’t know why I caved that day but I did. We were on our way to watch my nephew’s football game and the girls begged to have a sucker on the car ride over. I said “sure” because it was a full moon even though they hadn’t eaten any fruits or vegetables all day and there were straws stuck in their teeth.

 
The first thing Chloe saw when we arrived at the game was a concession stand selling suckers, hot dogs, hamburgers and pop.

 
“Mommy, can I have a sucker?” (What does she take me for, a sucker?)

 
Are you kidding?

 
We just had a sucker on the way over which is the closest you’ve been in weeks to flossing your teeth. Oh and you fought with your sisters on the drive over, complained about having to wipe the glob of toothpaste off of the counter, tried to stab me with a straw through the back of my seat, the answer, sweet Chloe, is No.

 
My Mom leaned in and whispered, “We could buy the kids a sucker as a treat.”

 
Seriously? I think this might be one of those full circle moments. That or my Mom thinks the suckers are made of carob.