Grandma stories

Grandmothers:

An elderly woman and her little grandson, whose face was sprinkled with bright freckles, spent the day at the zoo. Lots of children were
waiting in line to get their cheeks painted by a local artist who was
decorating them with tiger paws.
"You've got so many freckles, there's no place to paint!" a girl in the
line said to the little fella. Embarrassed, the little boy dropped his
head. His grandmother bent down to tell him, "I love your freckles. When I was a little girl I always wanted
freckles", she said, while tracing her finger across the child's cheek.
The boy looked up, "Really?"
"Of course," said the grandmother. "Why, just name me one thing that's
prettier than freckles."
The little boy thought for a moment, peered intensely into his grandma's
face, and softly whispered, "Wrinkles."
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A grandmother was telling her little granddaughter what her own childhood
was like. "We used to skate outside on a pond. I had a swing made from
a tire; it hung from a tree in our front yard. We rode our pony. We
picked wild raspberries in the woods."
The little girl was wide-eyed, taking this in. At last she said, "I sure
wish I'd gotten to know you sooner! *************************************************************************
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My grandson was visiting one day when he asked, "Grandma, do you know how
you and God are alike?"
I mentally polished my halos, while I asked, "No, how are we alike?"
"You're both old." *************************************************************************
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I didn't know if my granddaughter had learned her colors! yet, so I
decided to test her. I would point out something and ask what color it
was. She would tell me, and always she was correct. But it was fun for
me, so I continued. At last she headed for the door, saying sagely,
"Grandma, I think you should try to figure out some of these yourself!"
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When my grandson, Billy, and I entered our vacation cabin, we kept the
lights off until we were inside to keep from attracting pesky insects.
Still, a few fireflies followed us in. Noticing them before I did, Billy
whispered, "It's no use, Grandpa. The mosquitoes are coming after us
with flashlights."
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When my grandson asked me how old I was, I teasingly replied, "I'm not
sure."
"Look in your underwear, Grandma," he advised. "Mine says I'm four."