When Granddaddy was still with us, he must've held Grandma's hand all the time. She loves to hold hands, and hug and pat and kiss and lean. We heard a sermon series years ago on the 'five love languages.' We've determined, with 99.7% certainty, that 'touch' is grandma's love language. Touch, unfortunately for one or both of us, is not mine...
On Monday night, I got my grade back for my last 'hard' class at FIU. I got an A!!! My parents wanted to take me out to dinner. Since my friend Kat was already over for dinner, she came along too, as did Grandma. We went to Rio Cristal, possibly the greatest Cuban restaurant Miami has ever known. I don't think Grandma cared that we were at the holy grail of good Cuban restaurants. She was only too excited to have food in front of her, and I was close enough to touch the whole meal. I mean, the WHOLE time. When she smacks my leg or arm, she calls it a 'love pat.' I think that's ridiculous. How is smacking someone a 'love pat'?!?! Kat thought the whole thing was hilarious. Looking back, I do too. Grandma even asked Kat what was on her plate, just to make sure she had a little bit of everything from everyone. It's like Halloween everytime we come to the dinner table, and Grandma's favorite game is trick-or-treat. Deny her the food off your plate, and...TRICK- she smacks you (aka Love Pat). Give her your food and...TREAT- she'll hug you for the rest of the night.
1 comment:
congrats on the A. :-)
And I'm not gonna lie...sometimes I smack Alex and call it a love pat, lol...it is!
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