I not only refer to our mothers, but also to our grandmothers, the great-grandmothers of our children, who through our day to day evoke our own memories of a childhood with them.
They lived an era that has nothing to do with ours, at least on the surface. This age gap is evident in some aspects while almost not noticeable in many others and all this thanks to that way of seeing life, that way with which they treat grandchildren, their magic, The magic of grandmothers.
Grandmothers and the fridge, the magic duo
You say the fridge is empty and there is nothing to eat, if your grandmother says so you can still eat for a month. @madrestresadas
And if there is any fear that a grandmother has left, it is that someone is hungry or cold. And you may think that with the times that are running and how the pensions are, the thing should not be for the expense of this hair and that is where the grandmother's magical ability comes in.
You, with the sausage pack, the celery branch (I don't know why, but there's always one somewhere in the fridge at all times. What's more, I'm sure mine was coming when we bought the fridge) the egg and half a carton of milk that you find in the fridge when you open it occurs to you at most, start crying. But your grandmother is able to prepare a chanfaina for eight of all that, how? No idea, but it does. At home we believe that he uses some kind of spell that must have been lost sometime between the second half of the 50's and first of the 60's.
Grandmothers and sewing
It's been three times this year that you sew the kneepad to the pants of the older tracksuit, three times the same kneepad and a week is already beginning to fray. Your grandmother sees it, looks at you, mumbles something in the language of the grandmothers and takes the pants in a bag of the English cut, model of the 80, that every grandmother carries in the bag. When the pants return to you the kneepad does not come off again in life, it is more, the pants will disintegrate before the kneepad is released.
The same goes for costumes for the plays of nurseries and schools. Either you can buy it in the Chinese or they give you the instruction book, the assembly plans, an explanatory DVD and three months to finish it, because if not, your child will go in tracksuit. But your grandmother arrives, takes a brown rope from her bag, measures her grandson a couple of times and the next morning you have a Roman dress and with what has been left over from cloth she has repaired the banner of LEGIO CARTAGINENSIS.
Grandmothers and Reboot
If I saw the above as an advantage, I see this as a real danger. And it is that every grandmother has a chemist, a herbalist and a pharmacist inside, all of them tight, and of course, given the lack of space from there they tend to leave at the first exchange and all three at the same time. With this panorama it is better that you do not take the child to the grandmother with a cough of these insistent, because in half an hour he has you wrapped in towels, with his head stuck in a basin with a smoking liquid from which a plague emanates would make a goat vomit.
Someone, years ago, must have said that the worse he smells and knows more cure and all the grandmothers follow him to the letter (but all without exception). It is today that I dreadly remember my grandmother's home remedies to eat.
Grandmothers and obesity
Here it is convenient to leave a clear thing from the beginning. A grandmother, never, never, in life, will recognize that one of her grandchildren is fat. This is a fact corroborated by the most prestigious universities around the world. At the most we could get him to say that he is fine for how old he is or that he is wide on his back, but never "fat."
The grandmothers from before went very hungry, or so at least mine said, and so they dedicated themselves to putting their grandchildren one plate after another until the poor infant runs off. Didn't you wonder why children who are cared for by their grandmothers start walking before? Well there you have the answer, to run out of the kitchen and do not touch another plate of soup.
Grandmothers and TV
If I remember something about my grandmother and that still makes me smile, it's her relationship with TV. To be more exact, your relationship with the TV that I watched. And it makes me laugh because I see the same situation with my children and my mother.
Let's be clear, my grandmother did not understand in life not one of the programs I watched on television. But boy, those soap operas that you watch… do you understand them? I think it was not because my mother calmed her down, my grandmother would have ended up taking me to the doctor to see if she was okay with mine.
But if there was a mythical phrase from my grandmother it was: Children, don't watch TV so close that you're going to be silly. The concern of the grandparents, regardless of the time in which they have lived, that their grandchildren do not remain silly is impressive. With the amount of energy that will have been spent for this purpose, we would have found the cure against cancer safe. What a total, so much concern for nothing, have you heard any grandmother say that her grandson is dumb? Well, that, wasted energy.
Grandmothers and games
Not even the best tahur in Las Vegas would be able to compete with the ability of a grandmother to play with her grandchildren and make the number of victories equitable among the participants. She didn't teach us to cheat with the cards, she trained us in the development of fine motor skills with a deck (don't think it's easy to put an Ace in the sleeve). The rest of the games, such as dancing the top, marbles and badges, he delegated to the grandfather who also brought them in these sets.
Grandmothers and popular stories
Popular and generally scary. Those were the stories that the grandmother told when she got into bed with us. Stories about strange animals that roamed the town scratching at the doors, that if the strange shepherd who went to look for a sheep and never came back and whose sheep are still looking for him and that is why balan or the treasure that the bank robbers hid in Madrid . And I don't know yours, but mine left the story halfway so that it could be finished by grandfather or your uncle (which was even worse).
And you have seen the magic of grandmothers?
