SEVEN FOR YOU â—½ TIPS
Grandfather Funnies
Our Panel of Women
Last month, we shared the portraits of our grandmothers. This month, we are sharing funny stories we recall from time with our grandfathers. Unfortunately, several of the women on our panel never knew their grandfathers. But the ones that did, well they have some amusing stories to share, for sure! Hope you enjoy…
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My Popa was a silly man. I wish I had known him better. He tended to stay out of my grandmother's way because she had a temper. When he was around, he was a jolly man. Sometimes kinda sharp in his jokes, but I know he loved me. He built a woodshop in his backyard, and outfitted it with a recliner and a TV so he could stay out of the house. Popa made beautiful scrolled woodwork art. I have one piece from him that is the Lord's Prayer.
One year I got a bad perm that fried my hair; he called me Brillo Pad for a year. Also, if I licked my lips and got them chapped and red around my mouth, he called me Baboon Butt. It was a good reminder to ask my mom for some Chapstick and stop licking my lips. It's a good thing I was a confident little girl! I know he was a cheer leader for SFA when he was in college!
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​I'm not sure if he knew the Lord, and that is hard for me. I didn't live close by when he was older, but I prayed often that God would have mercy on Popa and reveal His goodness to him.
My other grandfather died when I was younger. He spent too much of his life as a drunk and hurt his children. I was around him a few times growing up; what I remember of him was that he was a good country cook. My own dad is a much better grandfather, and I know my husband will be an excellent grandfather. I'm thankful that God redeems whole family lines! - Laura
My Granddad Harold Higham was born in 1907 in Wigan, England. In his early years, he was a coal miner. On Wigan Pier by George Orwell, was written about this coal mining town.
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He was an ambulance driver and an air raid/shelter warden during the war.
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He worked for Vauxhall Motors for many years and was always helping them to create better systems. He was an inventor of many things.
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Two such inventions make me laugh just thinking about them:
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1. He loved cotton candy and thought he could make it himself and save money. He was in the garage all night creating the perfect cotton candy machine. My Mom was sent to tell him it was time for tea. The machine he created blew up, and he came out of the garage covered head to toe in cotton candy fluff. He was laughing, but not for long. When my Nannie discovered he used all their sugar rations, it was no longer funny. To me, it is hilarious! Wish they had taken a picture.
2. During the war, gas was rationed, so most of the cars were sidelined. People walked or rode bikes. Granddad didn’t want my Nannie walking to the shops, so he took out the engine of their car and added bicycle parts. He peddled while my Nannie sat in the back. They were pulled over several times by the police, thinking they were using gas. Another photo opportunity missed. – Cathy
My grandfather on my mom's side, Charles Blevins, was fun and funny. He was a short and stout man of German descent and he was a circuit-riding preacher - built many churches in Arkansas and Texas! But that was all before I was born. To me, he was just the grandfather who loved to play dominoes. One time my brother and I were playing dominoes with Papa and he farted (tooted, as 2 year old Camp says). The game was serious and my brother and I did not say a word in response to the noise. And then Papa looked up, smiled, and said, "Blow out!" It broke the silence and we all couldn't quit laughing. He was a jolly guy that loved God and lived to be 100 years old. I remember in the nursing home where he lived his last days, he got up every Sunday morning and walked by each room and proclaimed, "This is the day the Lord has made...let us rejoice and be glad in it!"
And that photo at the top of the page? That's my dad, grandfather to my kids, on an Easter Sunday, after confetti eggs were cracked on him. He enjoyed all things family and fun! - Marcy
It was hard to decide which grandfather to write about. I had two that were very special. Both were quiet, soft-spoken, men. One was my grandfather, and one was my great grandfather. I have fond memories from both of them, but there’s one particular memory I have of my great grandfather. I occasionally stayed over on weekends and he took me with him while he did his chores, as he called it. My great grandmother worked on our meals in her kitchen.
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My grandparents raised chickens, mostly for eggs. I loved going to the chicken coop and playing with them. He also let me help him collect the eggs. At first, he showed me how because I was young, and how to be gentle. As I got older, he decided it was time I could do it myself. The first time I did this was my last. I was so proud that I was doing such a good job! I collected all the eggs, even the wooden ones. I didn’t understand how the chickens could lay a wooden egg, but I didn’t think much of it. When I gave him the basket, he exclaimed how thorough I had been. I could see he was very pleased. I wanted to know all about the chickens,
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so I asked him about the wooden eggs and then he explained. He told me next time I could leave the wooden ones in the nesting boxes. They were there for the snakes. I thought, “What?” “Snakes?” He had never said anything about snakes! He went on to explain in his soft-spoken way that snakes like chicken eggs too. He said there was nothing to fear, that the wooden eggs would chase the snakes off. But if I ever saw a snake, I was to just leave it alone and come get him. That was the last time I ever gathered eggs! It was also the last time I ever went inside the chicken coop! - Carole
My paternal grandpa was a farmer. He could grow anything! Unfortunately, I didn't inherit that trait. One dreary, foggy day in February, while we were pastoring in a rural valley town in California, Grandma and Grandpa made a surprise visit to our house (a large mobile home on the church property). We weren't home when they arrived, because we were at the funeral home conducting a funeral. So, in his 'get-er done' way, Grandpa unloaded his tools and set to work aggressively pruning our peach, nectarine, and apple trees. When we got home, we were astonished to see a huge pile of brush on the ground and almost completely bare trees! We said to each other before we got out of car, "Oh no! Grandpa's RUINED our trees! They look like sticks!" Well, we fixed some dinner, thanked them for their care and hard work, and they went on to visit some friends nearby. But secretly, we were so, so sad to think that our wonderful trees would surely die!
Little did we know or understand at that young time in our lives, that without this quite severe pruning, those trees would have remained in their very mediocre state! And, when spring rolled around and they started setting out buds, Grandpa came AGAIN and stripped half of them!!! He said it's necessary so that fruit will be bigger and better. You've probably guessed it by now, that when the fruit set on, we had the most BEAUTIFUL, abundant crops we'd ever had. Those white peaches were as big as softballs, and they were the sweetest, juiciest peaches, nectarines and apples we'd ever tasted. Grandma even taught me how to pressure can them! We've used this illustration so many times in our ministries of what an important lesson and correlation it is to how God prunes us, not for punishment, but so that the fruit we produce will be the best it can be! - Debbie