Grandparents License

On the last plain Friday of Lent, my mother came over around quarter after five with a couple of fish sandwiches from a local fast food place. Seems she had brought one over some time prior, and had discovered she and her grandson shared a fondness for them. She had promised to bring him another before Easter.
"At what time?" you ask again. Yes, about 45 minutes before supper was to be on the table.
"But I promised him," she said plaintively.
I threw up my hands. "They can have it, but cut in quarters. Nobody gets more than two pieces!"
He wouldn't have known the difference, I thought in a growl. But Grandma would have.

She comes over for dinner weekly; in nice weather, she takes the kids for a walk so I get a moment to myself. I really appreciated this until... I went with them.
She let them run up and down the ramp of one house. The gentleman in a wheelchair has passed away and the new residents have taken it down, but when it was there, she let them. Another house has a bench swing in front; she'd let them go on that, too. "If they didn't want it to happen, they'd have it in the back yard," she reasoned to me. They've since moved it and it bumps into the house, so we've agreed to stop the kids from swinging.
Now, the lady with the bird bath has told me she specifically cleans it out for my kids, which means she really doesn't mind them playing in it. The folks with the foot-shaped-stone path have kids themselves, so they aren't bothered by mine jumping from one to the next despite it being right under their kitchen window.

I know my mother wouldn't have let us, her own children, do these things. I am as certain as I am the sun will rise in the east tomorrow morning. What is the difference?

They're grandkids, not her own children. It's the sentiment behind, "If I'd known they were more fun, I'd have had grandchildren first." It's all of the fun, none of the pressure. She gets to give them back.

I'm certain my kids watched more TV and and ate more junk food this past weekend than they would have if I hadn't been hospitalized. Did they burst into flame, get sick, turn into criminals? No. They enjoyed a weekend being spoiled while my in-laws did their darndest to keep them distracted and happy.

This isn't like letting a diabetic child eat an entire Hershey bar, mind you. It's the normal indulgence of relaxing the rules, not having to be the role model and responsible party all of the time. I've come to the conclusion it's what grandparents are supposed to do. And boy, am I looking forward to my turn!