I admit it, I have a favourite grandchild. And I tell all the others because it's good for them to learn early: life isn't fair
Share:
Earlier this month, I was at a meeting of my local Women’s Institute when the talk turned to grandchildren. Most of my friends admitted they have a favourite grandchild, but swore blind they would never reveal such a guilty secret to their adult children.
Personally, I can’t see what the fuss is about. After all, my entire family knows perfectly well that my eldest granddaughter, Elise, is at the top of my pecking order. I have five granddaughters in total: Elise, 16, Isabella, 13, Scarlett, 11, Lucy, eight, and Ivy, six.
I love all of them, yet Elise can do no wrong in my eyes. She is beautiful, bossy and belligerent, but so loving. I can’t help adoring her more. And I don’t hide it, either. We’re a close family and my only daughter Hannah lives a five-minute drive from my home in Cardiff, with her children and husband Scott.
As a retired civil servant, I’ve got plenty of free time now, so if I’m bored or Elise is down in the dumps, I love nothing more than texting her and taking her out shopping. We laugh at the same things, and the same things infuriate us. Emma Parsons-Reid with her favourite grandchild Elise, aged 16.
I get unbearably sad and cross when people are disloyal and Elise is the only one who doesn’t think I’m being overly dramatic. ‘I get it, Gran, I really do,’ she’ll say. In other words, we’re like two peas in a pod. We are so alike, Hannah has been known to say: ‘It’s as though I gave birth to my own mother.’.