Foxy Grandpa Hat Novels & Stories

I say closing my eyes, waiting for the shouting. "Oh, hell no, I am not letting some little boy fresh out of leather pants school, dictate where I'm going to go every day." Grandma says rising form her chair. She is sporting another of her famous moo moo's which she swears allows her to move around quicker. This one has a black and white zebra print design all over it.

Pharaoh nodded, “Alright, I’ll go with you. Don’t worry about my bald head. I can wear a wig. We can even pick one out together. Whatever style you think looks best, I’ll wear it.” Orion’s eyes sparkled with excitement. He remembered passing a wig shop with his parents, seeing all kinds of colors and styles. "Grandpa," he exclaimed, "can you wear a different hairstyle every day?"

Having him this close reminds me of how much I missed my grandparents. Grandpa Gaetano is 79 and stands at 5’4” making him a fraction shorter than my grandmother. He has thin snow-white hair and tanned skin that almost appears golden despite the many fine lines showing his age and wisdom. He wears thin, black-framed glasses that make his dark blue eyes appear so much larger, while his rather large – somewhat bulbous nose – expertly keeps his glasses in place. He has a neat and trimmed thick goatee that is all white but greying closer to his mouth. He’s wearing his usual oversized black turtleneck to hide his pot belly along with his favourite grey tweed jacket and matching pants, but it’s th

Grandpa Jimmy attempts to hug grandma Shiley but she pushes him away. "What have I done this time?" Grandpa Jimmy asked, perplexed about what he did to deserve such a cold shoulder. "Wasn't she happy just a minute ago?" He thought "So you wish to be younger so you will leave me huh? I've seen your plans now" Grandma Shiley pouts, faking an angry face. "Oh no, I can never do that. It was only a joke, a compliment for our beautiful daughter" Grandpa Jimmy tried explaining, but she was in no way giving in any time soon.

His chin was resting on his intertwined fingers, while he propped his hands up on the table with his elbows. He almost resembled that fat cat from the cartoon my brother used to love as a kid—What's the name of it again? — oh yes, Garfield and Friends. "So how about you, MIKE TYSON, don't you want some more pancakes?" Grandpa wiggled his brows at me. HOLY FUCK, HE DID NOT JUST SAY THAT! Gerard's fork fell with a loud clunking noise to the floor. Mom had an 'oh shit' look on her face.

"I just do. He won't leave you standing there. You need to hold up your end of the deal and keep winning him over. You're a wonderful woman, and I know you'll succeed. Before you know it, you'll have babies, my great-grandchildren, and you'll build a wonderful family. What happened today will be nothing but a bad memory. I promise you, that woman will be out of the company." "Grandma, do you really believe everything you just said?" "Of course, my dear! I know my family, and Maximus would never break his word. Now look at what I've brought you." Grandma pulled out a small box from her purse. "Your grandfather sent these. He wants you to wear them as your 'something old.' They belonged to you

Dad got his height from grandpa since grandma is 5’1”. Grandpa, however, is 6’5”, has dark black hair with a hint of grey hair forming in his sideburns. He has soft greyish brown eyes and is still built like a tank. They look so cute, with grandpa in black slacks and a navy blue button-down shirt and grandma in a soft yellow sundress, with a white wide-brim hat. “Luna Sorrell, it’s good to have you back home. Still not looking a day over thirty,” Vitali says with a wink. Grandma playfully swats his shoulder, but grandpa lets out a displeased growl and smacks him up the back of his head.

"He’s so soft and tiny. And his face is all smushed together. Like a little bold grandpa." I chuckled, "he’s not bold. He has some hair. But his face is like that because he was pushed out of something a lot smaller than his enormous head." Nivia looked at me with her eyebrows frowned, "mom. Don’t say that. His head is perfect." "It is, isn’t it? He’s fucking perfect, just like you." Storm said, quickly taking a picture of the three of us together. "Can I fucking come in now?" Grandpa Cy whined from the other side of the door. "I am an elderly man; I cannot stand around all fucking day."

“So the boots come off but the hat stays on?” “Yes, ma’am.” “You might want to rethink that.” Hayden raced back into the foyer, skidding to a stop in his sock-clad feet. He held something behind his back, and wore an enormous grin. “Ready?” “Yep.” He whipped out a ball cap. Navy blue with Superstar! emblazoned on it. “I got you a new cap since you said your other one was unlucky. This one looked lucky.” That little shit. That little, sweet shit. Kane took the ball cap, keeping his face shadowed beneath the brim of his cowboy hat. Not only was it a thoughtful gift, it proved Hayden listened to him. Sometimes with kids, he wasn’t sure how much they tuned out.

“What kind of pig is this? I seem to be seeing a bowl of braised pork.” The hairless pig was wide-eyed and infuriated, so it opened its mouth and spoke in human language, “To hell with you! Who do you think Grandpa Pig is? You want to eat Grandpa Pig? Can you bite through him, is the question?”