Last week, I took my grandchildren to a restaurant. My six-year-old grandson asked if he could say grace. As we bowed our heads he said, “God is good, God is great.
Thank you for the food, and I would even thank you more if Grandpa gets us ice cream for dessert. And liberty and justice for all! Amen!”
Along with the laughter from the other customers nearby, I heard a woman remark, “That’s what’s wrong with this country.
Kids today don’t even know how to pray. Asking God for ice cream! Why, I never!”
Hearing this, my grandson burst into tears and asked me, “Did I do it wrong?
Is God mad at me?”
As I held him and assured him that he had done a terrific job, and that God was certainly not mad at him, an elderly gentleman approached our table. He winked at my grandson and said, “I happen to know that God thought that was a great prayer.”
“Really?” my grandson asked. “Cross my heart,” the man replied.
Then, in a theatrical whisper, he added, indicating the woman whose remark had started this whole thing, “Too bad she never asks God for ice cream. A little ice cream is good for the soul sometimes.”
The woman immediately looked away, apparently hoping the awkward moment would simply disappear. But my grandson was already smiling again. The elderly gentleman gave him one last wink before returning to his table, and I thought the incident was finally over.
Naturally, I bought my grandchildren ice cream at the end of the meal. My grandson stared at his for a moment, holding the little spoon in his hand. I expected him to take the first bite.
Instead, he slowly pushed his chair back.
He picked up his sundae and, without a word, walked over and placed it in front of the woman. For a second, she looked genuinely confused. My grandson stood there with the biggest smile on his face and said, “Here, this is for you.”
The entire restaurant seemed to go quiet.
Then he added, with the innocent confidence only a six-year-old could manage, “Shove it up your ass, you grouchy old b*tch!”
There was a stunned silence.
Then someone at the next table burst out laughing. Another customer covered his mouth, trying desperately not to laugh out loud. Even the elderly gentleman who had defended my grandson nearly fell out of his chair.
The woman stared at my grandson, speechless. Her face turned bright red, and for several seconds she seemed unable to decide whether to be offended, embarrassed, or simply amazed.
I immediately stood up, apologized for my grandson’s language, and took him gently by the hand. But before we could leave, the elderly gentleman called out, “Young man!”
My grandson turned around.
The old man smiled and said, “You forgot something.”
My grandson looked confused.
The man pointed toward the sundae. “You forgot to tell her that ice cream is good for the soul.”
My grandson nodded solemnly and said, “Oh, right!”
Then he looked back at the woman and added, “Ice cream is good for the soul sometimes.”
That finished the room.
Even the woman finally let out the smallest reluctant smile.
As we walked out, my grandson looked up at me and whispered, “Grandpa, I think God really did answer my prayer.”
I asked him, “What makes you say that?”
He grinned and said, “Because everybody got ice cream, and she got some too.”
I laughed all the way to the car.
It wasn’t exactly the lesson in kindness I had expected him to learn that day—but somehow, I think he learned something even more important: never let someone else’s harsh words convince you that your innocent heart is doing something wrong.
And, apparently, never underestimate a six-year-old with a bowl of ice cream and a very strong opinion.
# Grandpa Thought His Sunday Drive Was Safe—Until Grandma Took His Granddaughter Out Instead
Have you ever wondered what the difference between Grandmothers and Grandfathers is?
Well, here is the answer:
A friend, who worked away from home all week, always made a special effort with his family on the weekends. Every Sunday morning he would take his seven-year-old granddaughter out for a drive in the car for some special bonding time, just him and his granddaughter. It was their little tradition, something both of them looked forward to every week.
One particular Sunday, however, he had a terrible cold and really didn’t feel like getting out of bed at all. He was exhausted, his head was pounding, and every time he coughed, he wondered how he had managed to catch such a miserable bug.
Luckily, his wife came to the rescue and said that she would take their granddaughter out instead.
He smiled sleepily and thanked her, thinking there was nothing to worry about. After all, Grandma was perfectly capable of taking their granddaughter for a quiet little drive.
So Grandma and her granddaughter headed out.
When they returned a while later, the front door opened and the little girl anxiously ran upstairs to see her grandfather. He was still tucked under the blankets, expecting to hear about a pleasant, uneventful drive around town.
He smiled and asked, “Well, did you enjoy your ride with Grandma?”
“Oh yes, Papa,” the girl replied, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “And do you know what?”
Grandpa immediately sat up a little straighter.
“What?”
The little girl took a deep breath, as though she had just returned from the most fascinating adventure of her life.
“We saw a lot of things!”
Grandpa laughed. “Did you?”
“Oh yes!” she said. “And Grandma taught me something, too.”
At this point, Grandpa looked toward his wife, who had just walked into the room.
Grandma suddenly looked very interested in anything except making eye contact with him.
Grandpa raised an eyebrow.
“What exactly did Grandma teach you?”
His granddaughter smiled proudly and announced:
“We didn’t see a single a——hole, stupid basta——, or dumb sh—— anywhere we went today!”
Grandpa stared at his wife.
His wife stared at the ceiling.
The little girl stood there smiling innocently, completely unaware that she had just revealed Grandma’s very different definition of a “peaceful Sunday drive.”
And Grandpa suddenly realized something important:
Grandmothers may teach you manners.
Grandfathers may teach you patience.
But sometimes, when Grandpa is sick and Grandma takes the wheel, you get an entirely different kind of education.
