This week's Grilled Grandma, Annette, is one of my top commenters so many of you may have already checked out her profile and visited her blog. (You know, the way curious folks spy/stalk someone who has commented on a blog post. Or am I the only nosy one who tries to figure out more about those who leave intriguing comments on blogs I visit by checking out their profiles?)

Well, if you've not yet stalked gotten to know Annette -- and even if you have -- be sure to read her grilling. She hits the nail right on the head in her reply to my question of "What is the greatest challenge of being a grandparent?"

 "The physical limitations!" she says. "You know...getting up and down from the floor, carrying her up the stairs, getting her in and out of her car seat, is just not as easy as it was 25 years ago!"

Boy oh boy did I learn that in the days I recently spent with Bubby. Getting him in and out of the car seat truly was one of the most challenging duties I faced. Not because of his weight and the lifting him in and out of the seat, but because my hands couldn't manipulate all the darn tabs and buckles and things marked "push in" and "pull out"!

Go HERE to read Annette's other answers and see the photos of her cute little curly-haired granddaughter, Shylee. Then be sure to click over to her blog and her Etsy site (although I take no responsibility for your overwhelming desire to purchase some of the handcrafted treasures she offers there!).

Got a grandma you want grilled? Send me her first name and e-mail address and I'll add her to the menu.

Today's question:

If you could, in retrospect, thank one teacher you had in school for what they taught you, who would it be, and what would you thank them for?

I would thank Mr. Marr, my high school psychology teacher for taking me aside and urging me to break up for good with my (abusive, messed up, wacko) boyfriend at the time. I actually did send him a thank you card about 20 years ago for having the nerve to interfere and (literally, I believe) save my life. I had been in line at the bank and watched in the rearview mirror as a jerk of a kid badgered and belittled his girlfriend in the seat beside him, much as my old boyfriend had done throughout high school. As soon as I got home I mailed a card to Mr. Marr.