A House For The Ages

(I am home at my grandparents’ house for the holidays. My uncle pops over with my eight-year-old cousin to say hello. While my uncle goes off to find my grandfather and ask him something, my cousin hangs out with me in the living room. My grandparents have lived in the same house for over fifty years. My sister and I lived there in our teens due to some family issues, and I spent summers there during college. My grandfather still refers to the bedroom I used as my bedroom, though I haven’t lived there for over five years, and it was my uncle’s before it was mine and my mother’s before that. It has since been converted to a guest room.)

Cousin: “Are you staying for Christmas?”

Me: “Yeah, I’m staying until the day after.”

Cousin: “Are you staying at Grandpa’s?”

Me: “That’s the plan.”

Cousin: “In your room?”

Me: “Well, it’s not really my room anymore. Anyone can use it. Besides, before it was my room, it was your dad’s room!”

Cousin: “No!”

Me: “Yeah!”

Cousin: “The house isn’t old enough!”

(My grandparents’ house is over 100 years old. I am 27 and his poor dad is only 35.)