History repeats

I told you that I gave my Youngest Grandson five jars of olives when we celebrated his 13th birthday.  I knew he would enjoy having a secret stash of his own because his family doesn't really like them and I was watching him devour enormous quantities during the summer at our house.  When he opened that package his eyes lit up, "I thought you were joking!"  And then I got this cute thank you postcard.

Recently a friend was commenting on the sweet relationship I have with this kid.  Have you ever watched (or read) "A Christmas Memory," by Truman Capote?  It is rebroadcast every year at Christmastime.  (Available on NetFlix.) It's about this crazy old lady who bakes 30+ fruitcakes with her young nephew.  (I think that's how they're related.)

At any rate, it's an annual event.  Lots of people in town get them and this year two, not just one, are mailed to President Roosevelt and his wife - they each get one.  Most of the town groans, they can't stand these fruitcakes, but one other isolated eccentric really appreciates her gift.  The kid seems to understand this old bag, he is as involved in the baking project as she is and fully participates.  Their relationship is so very much like the one I am currently enjoying with Youngest Grandson.