Daddy's Fish BowlA Clear View Of A Father's Family Experiences

So yesterday I wrote this post and by the time I got home, was seriously considering posting a retraction.  I definitely put my foot in my mouth, but it was a pleasant surprise.  Read on to find out what happened.  If you’ve already read yesterdays post, just skip down to the highlighted “update” section to find out what happened.

Grandpappy, or my Dad as I call him is coming to visit.  His plane should actually be landing as I write this post.  He’ll be visiting for two weeks, so I’m sure I’ll be writing about his interactions with the kids during that timeframe.  I wish my Mom was coming as well, but unfortunately, these two NEVER travel together.  They say it’s because it’s difficult to get vacation days during the same time as each other.  I say it’s because when one of them is gone, the other is throwing all type of crazy parties, like a high school kid who’s been left at home without any supervision.  For that reason, I’ve installed super secret, high tech surveillance cameras (smile for the camera Mom) in my parent’s home, to ensure that dance fever is kept to a minimum.  But that’s not the point of this post; you know I go off on tangents from time to time.  Since my Dad is coming, it got me to thinking about grandparent names and how unusual ours are.  When the kids were born, I was thinking a simple grandma and grandpa would do, but nope, not my parents, or Fefe’s either for that matter.

I always considered the names for my grandmothers to be pretty reasonable: Grandmomma and Grandmommie.  But my grandfather was a different story; I called him Virgil, his real name.  I don’t know why he wasn’t called granddad or grandpa; I never really thought much about it until I had kids.  My younger cousins called him granddad, but I guess I didn’t make the cut, I was too change by that time.  So when it came time to pick names for the kids to call my parents, I figured we’d follow the same naming format that was given to me for my grandparents, minus the Virgil aspect.  But that’s not what happened, somehow, I came up with the bright idea of having them pick their names.  I figured, hey, they’re the ones who have to respond to this name so why not let them pick what it should be.  How many of you would have picked a different name than the one given to you by your parents if you had the chance?  I thought that they would stay in line and follow tradition, but they had other ideas.  Don’t get me wrong, I love the names they picked, and so do the kids, they’re just a little different than I was expecting.

The names for my parents and Fefe’s parents are as follows: Nani (non-knee), Grandpappy (grand-pap-pee), Papa (paw-paw), and Nana, respectively.  Not your typical grandma and grandpa is it?  Well it was a lot worse, my Dad originally wanted to be called Grandpappypa (grand-pap-pee-paw).  That’s a mouthful; could you imagine being a two year old and trying to learn that name?  The kids would have been calling my dad “hey you” or “him” until they were 5 yrs old.  Thankfully, we were able to convince him to reduce it and it’s worked out pretty well so far.

I wonder when it’s time for me to become a grandparent, hopefully many many moons from now, will I pick a standard name, or go with something unique as my parents have chosen.

I’m interested to hear, what you call your grandparents or what do your grandchildren call you?  Are you a traditional grandma or are you referred to as something less generic?

***UPDATE***

Once I got home from work and greeted my Dad, I was all set to settle in and listen to stories of how his trip went, what he wanted to do while visiting, etc.  Before story time, I decided that a quick trip to the kitchen for a refreshing drink was in order.  As I’m walking towards the kitchen, Ty is rambling something about “look around you”.  I assumed it was his typical everyday banter, so paid it no mind.  I walked into the kitchen and greeted Fefe who was at the stove, then turned immediately to the fridge.  Before I opened it, I saw something out the corner of my eye and to my amazement (see pic), my Mom was standing there hiding in the kitchen.

I mean come on, how ironic is that.  Literally hours after I publicly go on record stating that these two NEVER travel together, BAM here they both are sitting in my house TOGETHER and I’m left standing there dumbfounded.  I’m not easily fooled or surprised, but I must admit they definitely got me good yesterday.  Now what I am suppose to do with all that high tech camera equipment that I purchased?  It was definitely a great surprise, and excellently executed plan.  I couldn’t be happier, thanks Mom & Dad for doing the unthinkable and traveling together.  Let the fun begin.