I've got the blues....

The Grandma blues. How the heck did I get old enough to be a Grandma?! When I think of Grandma's, I think of my Grandma Faye. She was in her late fifties (a very respectable age for a grandma.) Her hair was short and tightly curled to her head. She had these glasses that came together in a point on the outside of the frames; kinda like cat's eyes. They had sparkly things at the points that caught the light from her lamp. She only used them to read with, thread a needle, and drive - otherwise, she didn't need really them. She had long painted nails and smelled of strong flowery perfume. Her boobs were large and pillowy- perfect for leaning against when watching movies and that's all.My grandma did not have a sexy bone in her body. She drove slowly, because she was very short and could hardly see over the steering wheel. Last but not least - she had wrinkles - all over her face!

Now, I loved my Grandma Faye. She taught me how to fish and how to enjoy waiting for that fish to bite. Frankly, I think this is why I have very little problem waiting in lines, now. I know it will eventually be my turn, just like that fish eventually found my bait. She encouraged me to be a girl. She didn't see anything wrong with the fashions of the 70's and early 80's, though my mother was scandalized. She was one of the first people to say- I have no doubt you can do that. She let me walk to the park, with her dogs. It was only 5-7 blocks away, but at 12, it was a huge step of independence. I had never even been allowed to walk around our block before that summer! She fostered my love of cooking. She was a little stingy with her recipes, but encouraged me to figure it out on my own. She played board games with us all the time. Does anyone remember the Felix the Cat game? I do. It's needless to go on. It is pretty obvious that my Grandma Faye was a great grandma. I hope to follow in her foot steps. I am excited about being given the chance. There is only one problem. She was OLD!
I am not old. Yes, I am tentatively entering the decade of my life that begins with a 4 and ends with a 0. OK. So, I am beginning to have a little trouble reading fine print. The other day, I had to squint to thread a needle. However, I do not need glasses to drive! My nails are completely natural. If I do decide to get a manicure, it will be with french tips. Very elegant and sexy. I only wear body mist from Bed Bath and Beyond - light and delicate. As far as my boobs are concerned, it is no secret. They are not the perky things I remember. But, I'm not ready to put them out to pasture yet, if you know what I mean! Like her, I am not a dare devil driver. However, I can see over the steering wheel without a booster seat. Finally, with the help of Arbonne, I do not have wrinkles all over my face.
So, how can I be Grandma? Isn't there a name for people like me? Those technically old enough to be a grandparent, but too young to live like one. Grandma is an old lady's name. So is Grandmommy, Grandmama, Nana, Oma and Nona. Oh! Let's not forget that spry as a spring chick, Granny.
I know I have a few more months to get used to the idea. Maybe by that time, I will need a booster seat for my chest. Until then, I will be on the hunt for that elusive name that describes my new role in life, yet, doesn't sentence me to a life of prunes and early bird specials at the neighborhood Lubys.