Several times when my granddaughters were visiting me with their parents, I noticed a recognizable difference between parents and grandparents. It had to do with the laughter coming from the bathtub when my two youngest granddaughters were supposed to be washing their hair and scrubbing their knees.
“How sweet,” I thought, enjoying listening to their playful fun. But then. . .
“Girls, you are making too much noise. I have a headache,” their dad called to them.
“Just get your hair washed and get in bed,” chimed in their mom.
Then, rather sadly, I remembered times years ago when my own two little boys were having pillow fights in their bedroom, laughing instead of falling asleep.
”Boys, get to sleep now. It has been a very long day. I am so tired.” I would firmly call from my bedroom. Usually I needed to repeat myself.
“But Mom, we are not tired.”
“Well, I am.”
Amazing how, now that I am much older, kids laughing in the evening is music to my ears.
I suspect I’m not alone in acquiring a fondness for children’s laughter later in life.