Granny greetings

At last I can announce to the world that I have entered the hallowed domain of 'Grannydom', my daughter, Evangelina, having given birth last week to a healthy baby girl, weighing 7lbs and 4oz. I am not sure which makes me feel older becoming a granny or seeing the baby's weight written in imperial measures. I'm still not sure how her partner managed to drag himself away from his playstation long enough to procreate, but somehow he managed it and for that I suppose I should be grateful. Being 'people of the moment' they have chosen to christen their baby 'Bonjela' on grounds that Evangelina was suffering from a painful gum boil throughout the birth (if that was the only pain she felt during labour then she should consider herself extremely fortunate). It was as well that the baby did not come 2 weeks sooner otherwise my granddaughter could have ended up going through life as 'Boots own label haemorrhoid cream'. Sadly they have elected to give her the father's surname; it would have been nice to see the Weale-Bareaux surname perpetuated but there are a lot worse things than going through life as Bonjela Biskett. My only hope is that her peers are a bit kinder than her father's, since he's still known as 'Doggy' to his friends.

I can't say that I have ever given a great deal of thought to becoming a grandparent. I always supposed it was just one of those things you ticked off the 'to do' list when it came along. I can't see me being one of these doting grannies, we aren't exactly close as a family these days. Today's Evangelina talks a vernacular that may be tribal but is certainly not from any region of this planet that I have encountered. As for Darren, to give the proud Dad his proper title, he simply grunts a selection of tones, which might indicate that he is winning an online battle of Warcraft, he is going to the pub or that he is hungry. I suppose Evangelina could view this minimalist form of communication as good training for the months ahead.

I don't think I was ever truly 'in touch' with my daughter. No sooner had I given birth to her than I started making preparations to ship her off to boarding school, or at least that is how I recollect the first few years of our life together. I don't regret having a child, it was just that I wasn't 'ready' for it, but then if we all put off things until we were 'ready' then nothing would ever get done. She grew up to be a very single minded and head-strong girl which is probably why I find it so difficult to understand what she sees in a gormless twit like Darren.

I'm not sure what help or advice I will be able to offer them, I think each generation has their own way of raising a child so I shall try not to interfere, at least that is my argument, and I am sticking to it. I can't see me spending my days endlessly knitting assorted garments in a vain battle to keep up with the growth of my granddaughter. I think I shall opt for a backseat role, let them bring up their child as they see fit, offer my occasional services as a babysitter, push Bonjela in her pram around the local park, tell her loads of tall stories and wait for the day to come when she may reciprocate the favours.