Both my maternal grandparents had died by the time I was five and my paternal grandparents had both died by the time I was a teenager, so they never really played a major part in my life or my Christmases. I, although I have no idea for how much longer, am pretty central in my grandchildren's lives, to my lasting delight.
Absentdaughter has taken over Christmas hospitality (my responsibility for decades with our extended family in the UK) but I can always be counted on to produce a number of yummy home-made treats, plus a goodly supply of crackers (both sorts – the ones you eat with cheese and the ones you pull) olives, a selection of cheeses, some naughty grown-up's liqueur chocolates and some naughty children's sweets, etc. (I am contemplating a gingerbread house this year, but am not sure I have the time.)
I can play board games, endlessly read the same new story fourteen times and help clear up the Christmas lunch table and wash up anything that cannot go in the dishwasher. I can applaud the trampolining, the cricket and the riding around on a new scooter. I like to think I can be fun. I also like to think that I am bright enough to go home before I get boring, out of hand or fall asleep in the sofa.