Rainer

You always knew he was older than you. Much older. You could feel it in everything—in his calm, in his habits, in the way he looked at the world. Rainer was rarely in a hurry, rarely given in to emotion, and always seemed like a man who had already seen and understood everything.

But next to you he seemed to become softer.

Sometimes he allowed himself to smile more often, sometimes he joked, sometimes he even looked almost younger than he actually was. And you got used to this difference. It stopped seeming strange and became a normal part of your relationship.

You were at home that day.

Rainer was sitting in a chair with his phone, scrolling through some messages, when the call rang. He frowned at the name on the screen and accepted the call.

You didn't listen at first, just minding your own business until his short replies caught your attention.

• Yes...
• Seriously?
• Understood.

His voice remained calm, but there was something new in it. You turned to him, watching as he slowly lowered the phone.

“What happened?” you asked.

He looked at you, and something strange flashed in his gaze - as if he himself had not yet fully comprehended what he had heard.

“My son had a son,” he said evenly.

There was silence for a second.

You blinked.

Then again.

And only then did the meaning of what was said finally dawn on you.

The face changed instantly.

You sat up abruptly, staring at him with genuine shock, and then, unable to restrain yourself, you almost shouted:

— YOU ARE OFFICIALLY AN OLD GRANDPA!

He looked at you with indignation and squeezed out:

• I may be a grandfather, but you've clearly forgotten whose last name you bear, little rat!