Granddaughter: “Grandma, how many boyfriends did you have when you were young?”
Grandma smiled proudly.
“Oh darling, in my time relationships were pure, respectful, and meaningful.”
Granddaughter: “Wow… so just one?”
Grandma: “Well… one for dancing, one for poetry, one for motorcycle rides, one who played guitar, one rich boy for restaurant dinners…”
Granddaughter: “GRANDMA!”
Grandma: “What? We didn’t call them ‘boyfriends’ back then.”
Granddaughter: “What did you call them?”
Grandma smiled mischievously.
“We called them options.”
The granddaughter burst out laughing.
“Grandma! You had a whole dating roster!”
Grandma shook her head.
“Absolutely not. I had standards.”
“Standards?”
“Yes. Every young man had to bring something different to the table.”
“Like what?”
“Good manners. Good conversation. Good dancing…”
She paused.
“And preferably a car.”
The granddaughter laughed.
“So Grandpa was which one?”
Grandma suddenly became very quiet.
“Your grandfather?”
“Yes!”
Grandma smiled.
“He was the one who didn’t have any of those things.”
The granddaughter gasped.
“Then why did you marry him?”
Grandma leaned closer and whispered,
“Because he was the only one who made me laugh.”
The granddaughter smiled.
“Aww, that’s actually sweet.”
Grandma nodded.
“Your grandfather couldn’t dance, couldn’t play guitar, couldn’t write poetry, and didn’t have much money.”
“Then what did he have?”
Grandma looked toward an old photograph of her late husband.
“A good heart.”
She smiled.
“And apparently… excellent timing.”
The granddaughter raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean?”
Grandma winked.
“He proposed before any of the other boys could.”
The granddaughter burst out laughing.
“So Grandpa won?”
Grandma smiled.
“No, sweetheart.”
She picked up the photograph.
“He didn’t win the competition. He was the reason I stopped holding auditions.”
The granddaughter hugged her.
“Okay, Grandma. That was actually beautiful.”
Grandma smiled.
“Remember that, darling.”
“Remember what?”
“Sometimes the person you choose isn’t the most impressive person in the room.”
She pointed at the photograph.
“Sometimes they’re simply the one who makes the room feel like home.”
