When I was a kid, I adopted a third set of grandparents. Not that my two biological pairs weren’t adequate. In fact, I liked my grandparents a lot, so I’m sure I figured, why stick with just two?
Here’s how it happened. My cousin, Carol, lived in Virginia. But her mother was from Lancaster, so the family made long summer-time visits to the Lancaster farm where Carol’s mom (my aunt) grew up. This was Carol’s and my chance to play together, and so I’d go to the farm for several-day stretches.
Carol called these two older people “Grandpa” and “Grandma,” so I tried it, too. They answered—and treated me like one of their own. It was that simple, bless their generous hearts.