My long-passed grandfather’s birthday is coming up, and for me, it is a time to reminisce.
The long walks we used to take. The long drives. The special trips he would make to pick me up so I could spend weekends with him, and the advice he used to give!
Much was wasted because I was young when he died. If he were alive today and sharing his pearls of wisdom, I’d be a better man.
Those gems were well and good, but the one I remember most, the jewel in the crown of grandfatherly advice, came when I was 12.
We were sitting on a park bench eating a sandwich, watching children and their mothers enjoying a beautiful spring day.
He told me that one day, I’d find a woman and start my own family.
“And son,” he said, “be sure you marry a woman with small hands.”
“How come, Grandpa?” I asked.
“It makes your p*cker look bigger.”
