Yesterday I bombed down a deserted country road with the wind in my hair, sun on my face, and my Grandma at my side.
She was letting me test drive her new Smart Car convertible.
We roared down gravel roads and she cranked up the volume on her stereo - the song was "I get around" by The Beach Boys. She bopped to the music, dancing with her arms, clearly having a ball.
I laugh, thinking about my Grandma and her wild ways: Her flashy fashion sense, strong opinions, strange turns of phrase, and totally rad new car. But why? Why do I laugh? Is it because I've been taught to expect grandparents to be boring, slow, behind the times? Many people I talk to tell tales of some peppy grandparent of theirs, one who goes waterskiing at eighty, or curses like a sailor, or speaks their mind regardless of decorum.
Do you have one of these? (I have several!)
My Grandma is driving from Ontario to Alberta in her Smartcar this summer, though her plan to do so has been met by more than a few skeptical glances. In typical fashion, she is stubbornly holding firm.
"Ah, what do they know?" she asks, swatting at the air with a gesture of dismissal, "I've been driving since I was ten..."
So that's basically exactly what you'll look like in 50 years.
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