Ever notice how some kids sprint toward their grandparents’ house while others need three bribes and a screen time promise just to get in the car?
I’ve been watching this pattern play out for years now, especially since having my own kid and seeing how different grandparents operate. The divide is stark.
There are grandparents whose homes feel like refuges where kids can actually breathe. Then there are grandparents whose visits feel like performance reviews disguised as family time.
The difference isn’t about who has the bigger house, the better snacks, or the most expensive Christmas presents. It comes down to something most grandparents never even realize they’re doing.
They either ask questions or they give instructions. Rarely both.
1. The instruction trap most grandparents fall into
Think about your last family gathering. Count how many sentences from the older generation started with “You should” or “Why don’t you” or “When I was your age.”
Now count how many started with genuine curiosity.
The ratio probably tells you everything about whether those grandkids actually want to be there.
Most grandparents default to instruction mode without realizing it. They’ve accumulated decades of experience, and sharing that wisdom feels like love.
But here’s what they miss: constant instruction signals that the relationship only flows one way. The grandparent teaches, the grandchild receives. The grandparent knows, the grandchild learns.
Kids pick up on this hierarchy immediately. They know when they’re being seen as projects rather than people.
I watched this dynamic destroy the relationship between a friend’s mother and her teenage granddaughter.
Every interaction became a teaching moment. How to dress properly. How to speak correctly. How to choose better friends. The grandmother thought she was helping. The granddaughter felt like she was failing a class she never signed up for.
2. Why questions change everything
Questions do something instructions can’t: they create space for the grandchild to exist as themselves.
When a grandparent asks “What’s the best thing that happened at school this week?” instead of “Are you keeping your grades up?” they’re signaling something crucial. They’re interested in the grandchild’s actual experience, not their performance metrics.
The power isn’t in the specific questions. It’s in what questions represent: the grandparent sees the grandchild as someone worth knowing, not just someone worth fixing.
I’ve noticed that grandparents who ask questions discover things instructions would never reveal. They learn about the friendship drama that’s actually consuming their grandkid’s mental energy. They hear about the teacher who finally made history interesting. They find out about the YouTube channel their grandkid started that nobody else knows about.
These conversations can’t happen when every interaction starts with what the grandchild should be doing differently.
3. The respect differential nobody talks about
Here’s an uncomfortable truth: kids know when adults don’t respect them.
They might not articulate it that way, but they feel it. And nothing signals disrespect quite like never being asked for your perspective.
When grandparents only give instructions, they’re essentially saying: “Your thoughts aren’t valuable yet. Check back when you’re older.”
But when they ask questions and actually listen to the answers? That’s respect in action.
The grandparents whose homes kids love visiting treat their grandchildren like people with valid experiences, even if those experiences involve Minecraft drama or middle school social dynamics.
They recognize that a twelve-year-old’s problems are real to that twelve-year-old, even if they seem trivial from an adult perspective.
This doesn’t mean pretending kids and adults are equals in all ways. It means acknowledging that being younger doesn’t make someone’s inner life less real or less worthy of interest.
4. The curiosity advantage
Curious grandparents have a massive strategic advantage: they actually know their grandchildren.
The grandmother who asks questions knows that her grandson isn’t lazy, he’s anxious about disappointing people. The grandfather who listens learns that his granddaughter isn’t rebellious, she’s trying to figure out who she is outside of everyone’s expectations.
This knowledge changes everything about how they connect.
Instead of lecturing about work ethic, the grandmother can share a story about her own anxiety at that age. Instead of criticizing clothing choices, the grandfather can ask what his granddaughter’s style means to her.
These grandparents can offer wisdom that actually lands because they understand the specific human they’re talking to, not just the generic category of “grandchild.”
5. Breaking the pattern (even when it’s hard)
Shifting from instructions to questions isn’t natural for everyone, especially for generations raised on clear hierarchies where elders spoke and children listened.
But small changes make a huge difference.
Replace “You should call your mother more” with “How are things with your mom?”
Swap “Don’t you think you’re spending too much time on your phone?” for “What are you watching these days that you really like?”
Change “When are you going to get serious about school?” to “What’s school like for you right now?”
The shift feels awkward at first. Some grandparents worry that not giving advice means not caring. But kids rarely experience questions as indifference. They experience them as interest.
And that interest? That’s what makes them actually want to show up.
6. What kids really remember
Ask adults about their favorite memories with grandparents. They rarely mention the lectures about proper posture or the repeated stories about walking uphill both ways.
They remember the grandparent who asked about their dinosaur phase and actually listened to the answer. They remember the one who wanted to know about their friends, their fears, their weird interests that nobody else cared about.
They remember feeling seen, not supervised.
My own kid gravitates toward the grandparent who asks what she’s building in her imaginary worlds over the one who immediately corrects her grammar. One relationship is growing stronger. The other is becoming obligatory.
Kids don’t need more adults telling them what to do. They’re surrounded by instruction all day. Teachers, coaches, parents, every adult in their orbit has opinions about how they should be different.
What they need from grandparents is something rarer: genuine interest in who they are right now.
Final thoughts
The grandparents whose grandchildren genuinely want to visit have figured out something crucial: relationships require curiosity.
You can’t instruction your way into closeness. You can’t lecture your way into trust. You can’t teach someone into wanting to spend time with you.
But you can ask. You can listen. You can signal through your questions that this young person is worth knowing, exactly as they are, even as they’re figuring out who that is.
The best part? This shift benefits grandparents too. They get to know these fascinating young humans who carry their DNA but live in a completely different world. They get real conversations instead of rehearsed responses. They get relationships instead of roles.
The next time you see that dynamic where kids can’t wait to visit certain grandparents, pay attention. Count the questions versus the instructions. Notice who’s doing the talking and who’s doing the listening.
The pattern becomes obvious once you see it.
