Generations

On Sunday, we ate dinner at my parents house, and my paternal grandparents came from Glendale to join us.

Although they come to visit relatively frequently, I wanted to get a picture of our four generations. My dad is the fourth of four boys and I joke with my grandma about me following in her footsteps. She told me Sunday that her mother-in-law had told her that she would have a girl after the three boys.
When my dad was born, she said she cried. I know I would, too.

Still, without that fourth son, I wouldn't be here, nor either of my two sisters, so I guess there's balance in the universe somewhere.

Seeing my grandma and grandpa is a nice treat for me, and a good memory for my children. While I joke with grandma about her living another 20 years, she, as an octagenarian says, "Bite your tongue!"
I don't blame her. Who wants to be really old? She looks great, though, doesn't she? I want to look as good as she does when I'm 85.