As you all know I grew up with my grandparents.

On the weekends they often had their friends over, Mr. and Mrs. Kavcic. My grandma used to work with the lady and her husband was a farmer. Good, honest people. They usually arrived after dinner and I would sit at the table while they had coffee and played catch up. I loved eavesdropping on their discussions about politics and economy. Then I would say my goodnights and be send to bed. The game of cards was about to begin.

They would play tarok. It is a very interactive and competitive game and because teams are made up differently each time the banter between players is brilliant. It was at least in our house. I used to sneak out of bed, walk across the long hallway of our old apartment and hide behind the closed kitchen door. And listen. They were so funny and full of life. Not the kind of people I knew, serious and old-fashioned, with strict rules and all around adult and responsible behavior. They laughed and shouted, they teased each other and banged on the table as cards fell down on the antique wood.

It was a very rare time for me to peak into lives of my parents. Sure I lived with them and after my grandfather retired when I was six the three of us were always together. But it was old school parenting. They never played with me tea parties or did crafts. I followed my grandpa around doing things he did or liked. I played by myself. Or went outside to the playground and played with other children. It was different. And sometimes I think that it might have been better.

I often wonder if my son really thinks of me as an adult. Sure he says I am old, a lot. But does he understand the difference between adults and children? Like the other day when he said to me we should punish daddy for being late. Or ignoring my plea to put his socks on for the 13th time. Was I like that? I doubt I would have gotten away with it.

A few weeks ago my husband invited his colleague and old friend whom he has not seen in years over for dinner while he was visiting town. It was close to Little J’s bed time so after we ate I excused us and went upstairs to get him ready for the night. He brushed his teeth and put his PJ’s on and I asked if he wants to go down to say good bye to Daddy’s friend.

From the top of the stairs I heard him say:

“It was nice meeting you. Hope you come back to visit us soon. Good night.”

He pinched some popcorn and came back up. I tucked him in and kissed him good night.

I think my grandpa would be proud.