We only visited my grandparents once
every four or five years. So when we did it was special. I remember the closer
we got to their house (after driving for hours on the New York State Thruway,
the MOST boring road in the universe) I would get antsy. I knew what was
coming. I had to get through the ‘hellos’. I HATED that part. All the hugging
and kissing and “My, how you’ve GROWN!” comments. But the part I hated most was
Grandpa’s mustache!
I didn’t mind so much that it reminded me of
Adolf Hitler. 
What I hated was he’d hug me and
kiss me and ‘tickle’ me with that mustache. But it didn’t tickle, it scratched!
And left red marks on my neck! I hated those first few minutes of every visit.
But once we got that out of the way it was fun!
Mustaches do scratch! But good that itching was only one part of your visit :D
ReplyDeleteMy grand parents on father's side lived in same house, we lived on the third floor, they on the fifth.
You're lucky. My relatives were into cheek pinching. ;-D
ReplyDeleteMy thing was the 'smells'. I'd get hugged and it seemed to take hours to get that cologne/powder/BO off of me! YUK
ReplyDeleteIt wasn't my grandparents but my uncle's. I had one on each side of the family that loved to tease us. Soooooo embarassing at a young age.
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