My Grandmother used to pack each one of her grandchildren a "goody bag" whenever she came to visit. The highly anticipated gift was filled with ring pops, candy necklaces and other sugary (and sticky) treats which were by no means healthy. Since we rarely had candy at the house, the goody bag and the sugar it contained always created a high level of excitement.
I suppose that one of the perks of being a grandparent lies in the ability to provide all of the contraband treats to the grandchildren. My grandma would wire us on sugar and caffeine, watch us run around for a few days and then return to her normal life. My parents were left dealing with the sugar fueled emotions and the sticky fingers, walls, hair, and carpets. My Grandma was a hero because she was the benevolent candy distributor. My parents were the enemy because they would try to ration the treats in an attempt to safeguard us from sugar fueled disasters.
Thankfully Robby is not fond of candy so I never have to worry about my Mom hyping him up on sugar. This isn't to say that she doesn't surprise him with unique and highly personalized gifts that I would never buy for him myself. Some grandparents bring candy, others bring toys. My Mom brought down a cow heart.
The story of the cow heart started Friday afternoon when I picked up Robby from school. He was happily chatting during the drive home when he asked for my cell phone. He told me that he wanted to talk to Nana about something private. After giving him the phone and promising him that I wouldn't listen, he placed the call. Needless to say, I was shocked when I heard the purpose of his call. "Hi Nana. This is Robby. Nana, can you find me a heart sometime? I'm curious about what it looks like and I would like to dissect it so that I can learn more. Cutting open hearts is part of science."
After his conversation he handed me the phone. I attempted to persuade my Mom against finding a heart for dissection. Even as I was telling her that he would forget about the heart, I knew I was fighting a losing battle. The next time he saw her, she was going to have one.
I have to admit that I did not react gracefully when the cow heart was plopped on the center of my kitchen counter. I began to dry heave so violently that I was forced to leave the room. Robby, along with his Nana and Aunt Sheri, went to the back deck to begin the dissection. I stood in the kitchen and snapped a few photos through the window. I couldn't even make myself go outside!