When I arrived to pick up my son from nursery, he ran straight into my arms and eagerly whispered in my ear,
“Mum, Mum, can we have Jamies granny for ourselves?”
“What? Whose granny? What are you talking about?” I asked, completely confused. “Hurry up and get dressed; your dads waiting in the car.”
“That granny!” Charlie started pointing at an elderly lady slowly leading a little boy out of the nursery. “Jamies! Thats what Im saying!”
“Dont be silly. Shes not our granny, shes somebody elses.”
“So what?” he grumbled. “Ask her, maybe shell be my granny too. Please.”
“Youve got your own grandmothers, Charlie. Not just one, but two. Why do you need another? Now stop with your nonsense and put on your trousers.”
“But, Mum” Charlie pulled a miserable face as he struggled into his warm trousers. “My grannies arent proper grannies. Jamies granny is a real one. The proper sort.”
“And whats wrong with your grannies?” I tried to smile, but felt suddenly unsure. “Theyre real grannies! They had your dad and me, not Jamies granny.”
“So what?” Charlie looked at me with such longing. “Just because they had you, doesnt make them real grannies.”
“Of course it does! Youre our son, so our mums are your grandmas. Thats just how it works.”
“I dont want it to be automatic. I want them to be real grannies.”
“What does that mean then? Whats a real granny supposed to be like?”
“Like Jamies granny.”
“And whats so special about her thats different from yours?” I honestly couldnt make sense of what he meant.
“Well, Jamies granny lets him shout Granny! at the top of his voice and she loves it. One of mine tells me to call her Carol, and the other tells me off whenever I shout Granny in the playground.”
“Tells you off? How so?”
“She says, What do you mean, Granny? Im still young. Dont embarrass me in front of the neighbours!”
“Wait, that’s my mum, is it?”
“Yeah. And she also said you just palm me off on her. Jamies granny says that Jamies the best thing thats ever happened to her. I want to be the best in someones life too.”
“I cant believe my mum said that,” I replied, suddenly feeling a pang. “Come on now, lets get you ready or dad will start to worry. Does Carol ever tell you off for calling her Granny?”
“No, not really,” Charlie said, shaking his head, frowning. “She just ignores me if I say it. But if I call her Carol, shes pleased. And Mum, why have my grannies never learned to cook proper food?”
“What?” I stared at him. “What do you mean? Are you saying your grannies let you go hungry when youre round there?”
“Yep,” he answered without hesitation. “They do.”
“Dont be ridiculous, Charlie! They spoil you rottenI’ve seen for myself what you eat there!”
He pulled a face. “Sausages, frozen pizzas, saladsIs that supposed to be special?”
“What do you want then?”
“Pancakes.”
“Pancakes?” I repeated, thrown by his answer.
“Yeah. Or crumpets. Jamies granny said today, ‘When we get home, Ill make you some lovely warm crumpets, with clotted cream and jam.’ And then Jamie was so happy, nodding away. He and his granny make jam together in the summer and everything. My grannies never do anything like that.”
“Oh, Charlie” I looked at my boy with so much affection. “Would you like to have tea and jam this evening? We could pop to the shop”
“Its not the same if its from the shop.”
“How would you know?”
“Ive asked my grannies. They’ve bought it before”
“And have you asked them to make you pancakes or crumpets?”
“Yes” Charlie zipped up his coat, looking utterly dejected. “They say its too much fuss. Instead, they take me out to a café, but the pancakes are always cold, and the jam is too sweet. Jamies granny says the best food in the world is crumpets hot off the griddle.”
“Oh yes” I sighed wistfully, then took my sons hand, leading him out of the nursery. “Nothing like it. I remember my gran used to do the same for me”
As we walked to the car park, where Ben, Charlie’s dad, was waiting for us, I pulled out my phone and dialed my friend.
“Sophie, are you in?” I asked, feeling oddly embarrassed.
“I am,” she replied.
“Could I ask you a favour? And you mustnt laugh.”
“Whats up?”
“You once said you make the best crumpets, and your Sam eats as many as you can fry”
“I did. Why?”
“Will you give me the recipe?” I asked urgently, as Sophie started chuckling. “Hey, I said dont laugh! I really need it.”
“Better still, come over and Ill show you myself!”
“When?”
“Right now, if you like.”
“I can’t just now,” I faltered. “Im picking Charlie up from nursery, Bens waiting in the car”
“Well, bring them both. Sam can meet Charlie. Ill see you all soon!” she said, and hung up.
The next day, I took time off work and went to see my mum. I set about teaching her how to make crumpets, despite her huffs and protests about how modern retirement isnt the same as it used to be. But I was having none of it.
“Mum, if its so difficult for you, then Ill stop bringing Charlie round. Do you even know what makes a real granny? And why dont you ever make jam in the summer? Youve got a grandson now, for heavens sake!”
Mum clearly wanted to say something sharp back, but when she looked at my determined face, she said nothing. Just in case.
