Blog Post 2
I am lucky to be close to both sets of my grandparents.  However, I must admit that I am closer to my mom’s parents, both geographically and emotionally.  They moved up to my hometown of St. Petersburg in my early teenage years because my sister and I were their last set of grandchildren.  They are the type of grandparents that believe the health of one person is directly proportional to the amount of food he or she eats.  I did reap some benefits from this way of thinking.  Everyday during my junior and senior year of high school, my grandpa would bring me take-out lunch.  He would always call the night before to take my lunch order.  The places included but were not limited to Cracker Barrel, Firehouse Sub, Chipotle, and Trip’s Diner.  As for my grandma, she would cook me breakfast every morning.  This breakfast usually consisted of grits, ham, eggs, toast, little smokies (sausage), and bacon.  She was not very happy if I did not feel like eating that morning.  For instance, there was a morning where I filled up on drinking milk and orange juice while waiting for her to finish cooking.  When it came time to eat, my stomach just dropped because I knew I could not make a dent in the mountain of food before me.  She then proceeded to guilt trip me saying, “you don’t like my cooking?” and “come on, a growing boy needs more than that; that’s ridiculous.”  I ate so much that I threw up.  However, this solved the problem since I could go back and eat more.  To this day, I still make fun of her for this story, but I believe it was an important experience to me.  I think it taught me to trust my instinct of what to do, even if someone who seems to know better is persuading me to act differently.