No two grandparents do it exactly the same way. And that is exactly the point.
Author Mary Kay Morrison writes about what she calls your “extraordinary sauce”, the one-of-a-kind recipe each grandparent brings to their relationship with a grandchild. It is the particular way you make them laugh. The games only the two of you play. The moments that are yours alone.
Morrison’s message is simple: don’t water it down. Treasure every chance to nurture that bond, because the impact you make is real and lasting.
She knows the territory well. Morrison spent decades as an educator, served as president of the Association for Applied and Therapeutic Humor, and wrote Legacy of Laughter: A Grandparent Guide and Playbook with help from her 12 grandchildren. That is a lot of field research.
So what goes into your sauce?
Maybe you are the one with a corny pun for every occasion. The one who can name every bird at the feeder. The one who hums along to the radio while flipping pancakes, or turns a cardboard box into a pirate ship before lunch. Maybe your gift is quieter: a long walk, a good question, and all the time in the world to hear the answer.
Whatever it is, it counts. It is easy to glance at the grandparent with the backyard pool, or the one who lives ten minutes away, and wonder how you stack up. Morrison’s message points the other way. The things that make you different are the very things your grandchild will carry with them.
Your recipe also gets to grow as they do. Morrison’s playbook follows kids from the crib all the way to adulthood, with ideas for every stage. For babies and toddlers, it can be as simple as reading together, singing songs, and splashing in a bowl of water. Preschoolers might love fingerpainting with shaving cream on a cookie sheet. Early grade-schoolers can find riddles waiting for them when they arrive, with the answers hidden around the house. Preteens might paint rocks with cheerful messages and tuck them around a local park. Ask about their games and recitals, too. An encouraging text goes a long way, and so does a seat in the audience whenever you can make it.
And with teenagers and grown grandkids? Morrison’s advice is to keep swapping what makes you laugh and to make time for play every day. She practices what she preaches. Her own yard has five swings, and by her account, they get plenty of use.
Live a few states away? The sauce travels. A riddle works just fine by text, and a knock-knock joke lands just as well over a video call.
Morrison also poses a question worth sitting with: “How will your grandchildren remember you?”
One idea from her playbook answers it beautifully. Keep a Find the Funny journal, and share it. Jot down the inside jokes, the mispronounced words, the one-liner that had the whole table in stitches at Thanksgiving. Kids grow fast, and the best moments have a way of slipping by. On paper, they keep. Picture flipping through it together years from now and laughing all over again.
Laughter is at the heart of it. Morrison describes playful moments where grandchildren get a “handicap”; maybe they hop backward or even walk on their hands. Silly? Absolutely. Memorable? You bet.
