My Brilliant Grandad.

Grandparents are smashing, no denying that, but not many are as switched on as mine!

Grandad argues that he can’t look after himself.  I can see it, it’s clever; accusing Mum and Dad on the one hand of interfering, his other is out to get just what he’s after. “Can’t never could,” he says, waiting expectantly for someone to take the reins, only tweaking the job at the last, moving one gleaming spoon placed upside down in the cutlery draw, to face the right way around, according to him. “If you can’t do it right – then don’t do at all!” he says, tipping me the wink as Mum and Dad chide the ceiling. Hilarious!

He’s round for Sunday dinner each week, never turning down a free meal, salivating smarmy on the front doorstep. Then he antagonizes mum by wrapping up the foil she’s just used for the chicken, giving it quick wipe over and placing back in the draw! “Waste not want not!” he says. Fantastic!

He gets up to his tricks when taken out for dinner too. He asks for water, from the tap mind, then produces half a lemon and several packets of sugar (nicked from Tesco’s), to make some lemonade! He says it’s because there’s a need to be frugal; “shouldn’t buy what you can’t afford,” he declares, “you don’t get something for nothing.” I know my Grandad however, brilliant to the last, as due to his penny pinching he’s now one proud owner of a brand-new four-wheel drive, monster of a car, populated by rafts of disabled stickers in the front windows! I love my Grandad!