Gramma's Cookie Jar

We love our gramma.

She and our Aunt Judith (and their doggies) are the reasons we come to Florida every summer.

Grams is one awesome lady.

She's a generous and loving 85 year old gramma.

She's OUR gramma.

She's wise and wonderful.

She's the kind of gramma every dog dreams about.

One thing we've learned from her:  Grammas always have a cookie jar.

When Nina-Girl was a little tiny chicken (that's what Grampa called her),

the cookie jar was just at eye level on the counter.

Gramma always moved it down so the Girl could reach in and take a cookie.

When she got a little older, Nina-Girl learned how to pull a chair over so she could reach by herself.

As she got a little taller, she could reach the cookie jar with her fingertips

and move it close enough to get it down off the counter to check and see what kind of cookies were inside.

Always one of the first things she did when she got to Gramma's house was check the cookie jar.

(She still does.)

There were always cookies in it.

(There still are.)

Now Gramma is our grams, too.

She's got plenty enough love to share with all of us. Nodoggie is left out.

We know exactly where Grams keeps OUR cookie jar.   The cookie jar for dogs.

It's handy.  Right in a special corner spot in her kitchen.

Our treats. Lots of them. Lots of variety.

And we know exactly what the sound is when Grams opens any of the containers.

Pavlov's Law.  Dogs come running.

Chloe and Andy are as generous as Grams.  They kindly share.

And Grams lovingly gives us treats.  

 

We wait until she is ready.

And we gently take them from her.

 

Gladly.

And appreciatively.

Wish I could say I know when to stop and leave the rest for the others.

But that's not true.

I'm sort of the cookie monster.  Sometimes I have to be gently removed from the pack.

Grams always sneaks me another treat, though.

She's very fair.  And very generous.

I love my gramma.

We love our grams.