After a long, leisurely lunch, I was eyeing the shade of a thick grove of trees, but my plan of stealing a siesta went for a toss as my grandkids immediately surrounded me.

“Grandpa,” said the eldest, “tell us a story.”

His younger brother butted in, “Not a story Grandpa, THE story!”

I pretended to be confused by this, and said, “Ohhh, the one about the trucker?”

“Nooooooooo,” came the collective groan from the brood.

I smiled indulgently, and said, “OK OK, by popular demand, I shall once again narrate the story of…How I Met Your Grandmother!”

They all gathered closely around me, for my voice was no longer as loud as it used to be, and I started off.

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