I get it—grandmas have their quirks, and as a kid, who wouldn’t trade a dusty postcard for a shiny new bike or a fistful of cash? But let me guess: those postcards weren’t just random junk. They probably hid stories, like stamps from places she’d dreamed of visiting or messages from long-lost friends. One day, when you’re older and rummaging through a box of forgotten stuff, you’ll pull one out, and bam—it’ll transport you back to her kitchen, her laugh, the way she wrapped it with that extra tape because she was afraid it’d get lost in the mail to her own heart.
Hang in there, kid-version-of-you. Those “weird” gifts? They’re the ones that stick forever. What happened next with Grandma’s postcards? Spill the tea.
