My grandma is love — pillow-soft lap, biscuit-warm hugs, and honey-sweet kisses all over my face!
My grandpa makes me laugh. He’s a tickle and a joke, and a pocketful of peppermint. Grandpa’s hugs are big-man strong. His kiss is quick, like a high five.
My grandma has a garden. Flowers, big and small, and plenty of good things to eat. The garden is a magic place where wiggly worms, as long as my arms, squiggle in the sweet-smelling dirt, and ladybugs tell me their secrets.
There are fat red tomatoes as big as watermelons, and watermelons as big as baby elephants! Once when I bit into a watermelon, the juice gooshed down my chin so much, I was swimming in a pool of pink juice!
When we dug up sweet pataters, we had to dig and pull and pull and dig. The roots went all the way to Africa! With my ear near the ground, I heard people singing! An African child called my name!
So many colors! Reds! Greens! Yellows!
Already I can taste cool cucumbers, sweet tomatoes, and yummy watermelons.
I can already feel my Grandma’s warm hug!
I’m getting a little tired now. “Are we there yet?” I ask.
Mommy says, “Not yet.” Daddy says, “Soon.” We ride and ride…until Daddy shouts, “Here we are!”
Grandma, wearing her sun hat, comes out to see us. “Hello! Hello! How’s my special sweet patater?” Her hug is as warm and soft as I remembered. She makes me smile from my nose to my toes.
“Grandma, may I see the garden?”
“Sure, Baby. Let’s go!” she says. “Look at those watermelons!”
They don’t look so big but Grandma says, “They’re ready for eating.”
Mmmmmm…watermelon for lunch. Juicy! Juicy! Juicy!
A ladybug stops to rest on my arm. She whispers, “Welcome back. I missed you.”