As children, my brother and I practically grew up at our grandparents’ house. Our parents worked around the clock at a city bank, and were both back in school working towards teaching degrees. Because our parents were so busy throughout our childhood, my brother and I were at our grandparents’ house every afternoon when school let out, almost every weekday during the summer and during many school breaks. Because of this, our grandma and grandpa stood in as honorary parents to my brother and me. Now, a decade later, I consider my grandparents not only to be amazing role models and honorary guardians, but also two of my greatest friends.

Every Thursday, I wake up and drive 20 minutes to my grandparents’ house for breakfast, which normally consists of juicy, fresh fruit and intensely bitter coffee. Inevitably, morning conversation starts slowly. Once the coffee slides into our systems, we slide into the social rhythm of the meal, but by the end of breakfast—usually it lasts two hours—I have been showered with grains of knowledge and priceless anecdotes from “back in the day,” proving to me why everyone should become BFFs with their grandparents…

Grandparents have all lived much longer, and therefore have an infinite amount of wisdom to pass on to you.

Chances are, your grandparents have lived your life about three or four times over, meaning they know a lot more than you. They can fill you in on what it’s like to be a parent, how this electoral cycle is shaping up against the one in which Reagan was elected and encourage you by asserting that if they could survive the disco era, then you can survive the era of twerking. Grandparents are basically breathing anthologies of experience, meant to be read and appreciated.

As people who have lived decades upon decades of life, they most likely have some pretty great stories to tell.

“I didn’t even know what pizza was until I started dating your grandma, and that was when I was 18!” My grandpa told me this during one particularly hilarious breakfast when the three of us were discussing the first time my grandparents tried to use an electric can opener. In addition to stories of his sheltered childhood in Illinois, my grandpa has told me tales of his time in the army—living in Turkey while he worked to decipher messages coming to his station via Morse code. My grandma has also shared stories of her childhood, an era when filled-out, Marilyn Monroe-type bodies were all the rage, but the neighborhood kids had deemed my grandma “skinny mini with the meatball eyes.” From war stories to childhood nicknames, grandparents have more stories to tell than Mother Goose.

Grandparents can give you all the dirt on your parents, aunts and uncles.

My grandparents have told me countless stories about my mom and uncle, from the time my uncle observed that his first grade teacher had neglected to shave her legs for a few days, proceeding to inform her that her legs were “prickly,” to the time my mom first brought my dad home to meet the family. Grandparents have enough anecdotes to fill the Library of Congress twice, and they can give you all of the hot gossip about your mom’s fourth grade bowl haircut.

Betty White is a grandmother, and if that doesn’t make you want to talk to your grandparents, then nothing will.

I consider myself incredibly blessed to have my grandparents as some of my best friends. They have supported me throughout my days as an annoying youth, an awkward teenager and now in my hectic days of college. Thursdays are unarguably my favorite days of the week simply because I begin them enjoying breakfast with my grandparents. I look forward to the numerous tales, pieces of advice and morsels of Grandma’s cooking that await me in the many Thursdays to come.