After about 20 years, I was finally reunited with my grandparents after my bitter mother shut them off back in 1972 for having a Nixon sign in their yard. So I grew up without them.As a young adult, I was able to make contact and brought my wife and kids for them to meet. We hit it off spectacularly. We all agreed that my mother was one piece of work and we had a good laugh together over that. We would get together on a regular basis from that point on. Meanwhile, my lonely and bitter mother brooded alone in her tiny, subsidized apartment all those years and never got to see anybody very much.
The above is totally fictional and intended to point out the pettiness and immaturity of this act, as well as the consequences that may follow. I hope this happy ending scenario eventually plays out for the children and parents of this self-absorbed maroon.
I heard once that grandparents and grandkids instantly bond because they have a common enemy.
You spelled misspelled “moron.” ;^)