I love my grand-daughter.  
She has a smile that will break your heart.  She’s lovable and it feels like heaven when she throws her arms around me.  
She has the voice of an angel and the brain and intelligence of a scholar.  
She gave me the moniker “Sugar”.  Love to hear her say it, melts me every time…

Oh, but here comes the “but”………
But when she makes up her mind to be sassy, she does that equally as well as any of the other attributes, qualities and gifts that she possesses.  
And with all of that intelligence she’s got running around in her brain, right about now, 
she ain’t got clue the first.
She doesn’t know that she has been ambushed by a gaggle of unruly and fickle hormones that are dead smack at the center of her feistiness.   
She has no idea that she is being mind-jacked by a pre-pubescent villain that she will soon call “friend”.
She is oblivious to the fact that her good sense has been blitzed and will cause her to say and do things that she thinks she is big, bad, and grown enough to say and do.
And she is totally unaware that each month for many years to come she will be invaded by a body-snatcher that will sometimes bloat her, cause her to cramp, take away her appetite and make her unreasonably emotional.
Her rationale will be irrational, her logic will be illogical and she will test the limits of the unconditional 

But I know this……

And so I snicker as I watch her proudly displaying these little buds rising off of her chest and giving attitude to this big tittie woman.  
I really want to give her the business.  I mean, really go in on her!!!!  
Tell her what I know and what I’ve come through and who I am.  And while I’m at it, 
tell her what she don’t know, and who she ain’t.  
But I don’t because I know she has to learn how to manage her business – how to be in the world, handle relationships, negotiate her feelings and come into herself respectfully.
I will be her testing ground but will also make sure she knows the boundaries and limits of human dignity, respect, and kindness in relationships.  
So I just check her.
Hope she’s listening.

And I shake my head in resignation as she comes through the living room huffing and puffing and walking heavy at some unknown offense and offender.  
Clearly she is smelling herself and she don’t even know where the scent is coming from or what to do to tame it properly
And there’s a part of me that wants to knock her into next week
But I know I can’t.  Not because it’s abusive
but because I know that there is a lesson in this week of her life that she can’t afford to miss.  Wouldn’t want to stunt her growth.
Hope she’s paying attention.

And I have to shut down my sensibilities when she just wants to go word-for word and can’t seem to catch her breath long enough to have another thought.
In that moment, I feel like slapping the taste out of her fresh-ass mouth.
But I don’t because I realize that she has to be able to learn self-discipline, how to communicate effectively, knowing that she is heard, and not just tolerated, how to develop and utilize reasoning skills, and how to stand up for herself.  
So I have to leave that sense in place and flavor my responses with wisdom and love
while I sprinkle in a bit of vinegar and a dash of hot sauce
Hope she understands.

And then I have to exhale and repose in my seat as I witness her rolling her eyes and her neck and just giving everybody the “what for”.  
I think to myself, just one more time and I am going to pluck those beautiful eyes right out of her head.
And she does, but I don’t.
I recognize that she has got to be able to behold all of the possibilities and opportunities that await her arrival and to navigate this life that lies ahead of her.  
She has to witness the awe-inspiring majesty of the universe. 
She must be allowed to see the beauty and innocence of the children she will someday bear and have to give the same measure of patience and tolerance that is now being meted out to her as she guides their footsteps.
She has to be able to identify beauty and a smile chockful of love, tears so she can learn compassion, truth, pitfalls, and things to avoid.  
She's got to be able to see the signs of life, know what they mean, and decide accordingly.
So I have to put my arms around her and just squeeze – ever so tightly and ever so lightly because she is way too big for me to lift her up.
Hope she takes heed.
 

Generations have brought her and I to one another
Generations of hope have entrusted us into each others lives
Generations of laughter and joy have given us to this time of celebration and challenge
Generations of love bind us together for eternity