Based on past experience, I've learned that Grandparents can fall on either end of the spectrum when it comes to Christmas presents. Come Christmas morn, I could either open a gift containing a new sweater, or I could be opening up:
My eyes did a Tex Avery moment, and then I got the shakes. Dear Lord. My grandparents had just gotten me a freaking Dinobot!!
The miraculous part was that I hadn't even asked them for one. Some sort of divine Providence led them to pick out this EXACT gift. And, so, for all I cared, they could give me a bounty of socks for the rest of my life.