With my robe and slippers on, I quietly slip out of the room and go to the top of the stairs where my burning question pops into my head once more and I chicken out. I roll back over and stare at the ceiling until I hear Gramps fighting with the coffee machine in the kitchen downstairs. That’s why I’m going to ask Gramps my burning question - because I know I’ll get an answer if I’m patient.ĭave mumbles something in his sleep, grins like he just farted in church and got away with it, then hugs his pillow and settles down. I can ask Gramps anything even though sometimes it takes all day to get an answer. Mom says he’s quirky and his train runs on a different track but I think he’s cool. Gramps is my favourite person in the whole world.

We’re in Dad’s old room at Gramps’ house, a thousand miles from home, on our annual two-week summer vacation without mom and dad. I roll over in bed and watch Dave sleeping across the room. I’m not sure if I’m going to miss him or not. He’s nineteen this year and going away to college in the fall. I asked my brother Dave once but he just glared at me like I was a total dork and told me to get the hell out of his room. I’ve got lots of reasons but they’re all jumbled up in my head like a tangled ball of string, so I’m not sure if they’re darn good or just stupid. It’s the kind of question kids shouldn’t ask their parents without a darn good reason. I’ve got a burning question that I can’t ask my parents because it would hurt their feelings.

Ask gramps