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My 13-year-old grandson, Eli, came bouncing into my kitchen last Saturday, talking a mile a minute about a game he loves.
He mentioned “skins,” “updates,” “streamers,” and something called a “battle pass.” I tried to follow along, truly I did, but after a few minutes I felt completely lost.
I smiled and nodded, hoping he wouldn’t notice.
Then he suddenly asked, “Grandma, who do you think is the best character?”
My mind went blank.
I laughed and said, “Oh, honey, I don’t understand any of that stuff. Why don’t you talk to one of your friends about it?”
The excitement seemed to drain right out of his face.
“Oh. Okay,” he said.
He changed the subject, but I kept thinking about that little shift in his expression.
Now I’m wondering whether I accidentally made him feel that the things he loves don’t matter to me.
What would YOU do?
A. Leave it alone. Grandmothers and grandchildren naturally have different interests, and there is no need to pretend otherwise.
B. Secretly research the game so you can surprise him next time by knowing all the characters and terminology.
C. Tell him honestly that you don’t understand the game yet, but invite him to explain one part of it to you because you want to know what he enjoys.
D. Suggest a different activity you both already understand and enjoy so neither of you feels awkward.
There are moments in grandparenting when the distance between generations suddenly feels very wide.
One minute, you’re chatting comfortably about school, dinner, or the family dog. The next, your grandchild is speaking enthusiastically about a game, singer, online creator, hobby, or piece of technology that sounds as though it comes with its own private language.
And goodness, it can be humbling.
We grandmothers, are often used to being the ones who know things. We have spent decades collecting stories, skills, recipes, lessons, and practical wisdom. Then along comes a 13-year-old who casually uses six words we’ve never heard before and expects us to have an opinion!
The important thing to remember is this: you do not have to understand a grandchild’s interest in order to show interest in your grandchild.
That small difference can change everything.
Let’s look at each response.
Option A: Leave it alone because different generations naturally have different interests.
There is some truth here.
Your grandchild does not need you to share every passion. In fact, healthy relationships allow people to be different. Grandma does not have to love video games. A grandson does not have to love gardening. A granddaughter may never understand why we save perfectly good gift bags in a cupboard for twelve years!
Differences are normal.
But in this particular situation, simply leaving things alone may miss an important emotional message.
Eli wasn’t merely giving his grandmother information about a game. He was sharing his excitement.
When children and teenagers enthusiastically talk about their interests, they are often offering us a little window into their inner world. Their interests can become a way of saying, “This matters to me. Will you come look?”
We do not have to climb all the way through that window.
But it helps tremendously when we pause and peek inside.
Option B: Secretly research the game until you understand the terminology.
Now, I admit, this is exactly the sort of thing a loving grandmother might do.
We can be determined creatures!
After everyone goes home, we might sit down with our glasses, open the computer, and type, “What on earth is a battle pass?”
Learning a little about a grandchild’s interests can be a beautiful gesture. It may even give you helpful conversation starters.
But secretly trying to become an expert can create unnecessary pressure.
The goal is not to impress your grandchild with perfect knowledge.
In fact, pretending to know more than we do can sometimes feel less genuine than simply admitting, “You’ll have to teach me.”
Children, and especially teenagers, are often quite good at noticing when adults are trying too hard.
More importantly, researching everything alone removes a wonderful opportunity: letting your grandchild be the expert.
Most of their lives, young people are being instructed.
Parents instruct them. Teachers instruct them. Coaches instruct them.
There is something delightfully different about Grandma leaning forward and saying, “All right. You’re going to have to explain this one to me.”
Suddenly, the child gets to teach.
And that can be surprisingly connecting.
Option C: Honestly admit you don’t understand yet, but ask him to explain one part because you want to know what he enjoys.
This is the best response.
Notice the balance in it.
You are not pretending.
You might say, “Eli, I have to confess, half those words went right over my head. But you looked so excited talking about it. Show me your favorite character and tell me why you like him.”
That sentence communicates several powerful things.
“I am listening.”
“You do not have to hide your enthusiasm around me.”
“I may not understand your interest, but I want to understand you.”
And perhaps most importantly: “You are worth my attention.”
For a teenager, that message matters.
As grandchildren grow older, conversation often becomes less straightforward. A small child may run into your arms and tell you everything that happened that day.
A teenager may not.
Sometimes their hobbies become the bridge.
They may talk about a video game before they talk about school stress.
They may tell you about a musician before they tell you about friendship problems.
They may show you a funny video before mentioning something that has been worrying them.
We never know which ordinary conversation may quietly open the door to a deeper one.
That is why curiosity is such a valuable grandmothering skill.
And curiosity does not mean interrogation.
You don’t need twenty questions.
Simply ask one sincere question and listen to the answer.
“What do you like most about it?”
“How did you get interested in that?”
“Show me your favorite part.”
“Who do you usually play with?”
Then let the conversation wander.
You may still understand only 40 percent of what is being said.
That’s all right.
Your grandchild is likely to remember the interest in your eyes more than your knowledge of the subject.
Option D: Suggest an activity you both already understand and enjoy.
This response comes from a lovely instinct.
Shared traditions are one of the treasures of grandparenting.
Baking together, playing cards, taking walks, watching an old favorite movie, working in the garden, or going out for a familiar treat can create a sense of comfort and belonging.
Those shared activities absolutely matter.
But immediately redirecting Eli to something Grandma prefers could unintentionally send the message, “We can connect when we’re in my world, but not when we’re in yours.”
Strong relationships need a little movement in both directions.
Perhaps Eli learns Grandma’s favorite card game.
And perhaps Grandma spends ten minutes learning why Eli is so excited about a certain game character.
Neither person has to become passionate about the other’s hobby.
The gift is the willingness to visit.
The grandmotherly lesson
Looking back, the sentence “Why don’t you talk to your friends about it?” probably felt harmless.
But we grandmothers know that words sometimes land differently than we intend.
The good news is that these little moments are wonderfully repairable.
You could simply say the next time you see him:
“Eli, I’ve been thinking about our conversation. I brushed off your game because I didn’t understand it. I wish I hadn’t done that. Tell me about that character you were asking me about.”
No grand speech is required.
No guilt.
No dramatic apology.
Just a small step back toward connection.
Our grandchildren are growing up in a world filled with interests, words, and technology that may sometimes leave us scratching our heads.
We won’t understand everything.
We aren’t supposed to.
But we can remain curious.
A wise grandmother doesn’t need to know every answer.
Sometimes her greatest gift is simply saying:
“I don’t know much about that yet. Come sit by me and tell me why you love it.”
Because beneath all the unfamiliar words, that may be what our grandchildren are hoping to hear.
