Mighty Good

My grandfather is a very sweet man. He can't hear very well, and if anyone gets married, he thinks the wedding was in Cleveland, BUT he means well, and he's a big sweetheart (just don't get offended if he called you some random name that sounds like it's from the 60s... his eyes aren't that great, anymore, either). Needless to say, he's gotten pretty "wise" over the years (a nice, friendly way of saying he's gotten old).

You see - Grandpa is currently in town. My Aunt Zelma, whom he now lives with, flew out here with him so that he can stay with our family while she's in Malaysia doing some missions work (or going to a conference... something cool either way). Also, my Aunt Sylvia flew in to help watch Grandpa and see the family again. It's almost become an annual thing (this is only the second year, but I've got a feeling!!).

With that said, I made a few realizations while sitting on my couch with my mother on Sunday. Whatever my Grandpa does, one of my aunts always checks with him. They kind've have to watch him closely because he can't really take care of himself alone, anymore. So if he stands up it's "Where you going, Daddy?" or... "Daddy - it's time to take a nap" or a personal favorite "Daddy, did you go number 1 or number 2?" (BONUS information!!!).


So what were these realizations that I made? I'll tell you:

- You come into this world wearing diapers, you leave this world wearing diapers.
- You come into this world being told what to do, you leave this world being told what to do.
- You come into this world having your food cut up into tiny bits so as not to make you choke - you leave the same way.

My list of these grew quite large, actually... but if you think about it - it's like a full circle!


Well, I tell you all of this to bring you to the title of my blog. Now that you understand a little bit about my Grandfather... let me tell you that he may have trouble hearing or seeing, but the man still enjoys a good meal. He's from the south - keep that in mind for the next part of our story.



Grandpa is what some ammateurs may call a "food critic". He's never mean... but it's like getting that 5th star... you've REALLY got to earn it with him. So whenever anyone cooks, he usually grades them as (and these are in order) "Good", "Pretty Good", or the infamous "Mighty Good". And there's never any confusion... becuase he always says it twice. "Pretty good... pretty good." (I think repeating it is his way of saying "just let me EAT my FOOD, people! You've got your answer, what more do you want from me?!" But that's just my opinion)

Well, I've tried MANY times to get a "Might Good", and even at the desperation of 'word planting', I fail EVERY time! (and YES I can cook... so be nice, people!!) This is usually how the conversation at dinner goes, with Grandpa and a meal that I've cooked:

ME: How is it, Grandpa?

GRANDPA: Pretty Good... Pretty Good.

ME: Is it Mighty Good, Grandpa?

GRANDPA: It's Pretty Good... Pretty Good.

ME: (sad, pouty, failure face)

FAMILY: (uncontrollable bursts of intense laughter)


So last night I get a message on my cell phone from my family. "Hey, Sarah, it's Dad. I just wanted to let you know that I grilled out some Chicken and Steak, tonight..." (this is where I think he's being sweet and inviting me over for dinner, since Kyle usually goes to bed super early when working days... I was wrong) The message continued: "...and I got an unsolicited 'Mighty Good', so... eat your heart out. (insert background of family bursting into laughter, here)"


Now I must admit that I HIGHLY doubt that this 'Mighty Good' was "unsolicited", as he said, but whatever. Even when I solicite them... I get nothing.




Life's not fair.