I love to go to Grandma’s house
’Cause Grandma always reads to me.
Before she reads, I know she needs
her glasses so that she can see.
“Wherever can my glasses be?”
Grandma always questions me.
We look in drawers, behind closed doors,
We check the closet shelves and floors.
Then Grandma finds the hiding place,
A smile breaks out across her face.
I sit gently on her knee,
And then my Grandma reads to me.