Last winter, I tried to be the “perfect grand.” I arrived with a bag of books, a reward chart, and a 20-minute plan. What could possibly go wrong? Well… everything. My grandson wriggled, I rushed the pages, and by night three, everyone dreaded “Carma’s reading time.” I could feel it—the sigh before I sat down, the way he slid off the couch, the tight smile I put on anyway. So, I scrapped the plan and asked myself, What am I actually trying to build here? Love of reading, of course.

What? Read the old "stuff" to our grandkids? Are you crazy?

The other day, I innocently suggested that we read the classics to our grandkids and got some shocked looks and numerous pushbacks as if I said all grandparents have 3 heads. The theme of the concern was that we are in an age bursting with digital entertainment and the concern that the "classics" couldn't keep the engagement and interest of our young readers.

Let me give you an alternative perspective.

What's your IQ? Don't you know?

If you were a kid in the early 1970s, you may have been given the "Intelligence Quotient" (IQ) test, which was heralded as the definitive indicator of potential and determined whether you were destined to be a rocket scientist, a corporate mogul, or sweeping the floors at NASA.

I was one of the cusp kids who took the IQ test, and the results were shared with us.

But by the 1990s, something fascinating happened: Emotional Intelligence, or EQ, entered the conversation.

I have a love/hate relationship with my life.

No, there is no need for intervention. This is an epiphany that has been occurring as grandkids have appeared.  

 You have heard me say this before, my grandkids don’t live near me and it’s a perpetual challenge to find ways to interact, build lasting memories, influence their literacy development and show that being old (er) doesn’t mean you don’t have value to add.

I know that sounds like a lot of baggage but trust me, it’s not…really.