Conflict can be collaboration and friends can be foes

Photo by Larry Costales on Unsplash

By the time I got to know my granny, she was a little old lady who wore aprons with pockets full to the brim with bits and pieces. She had short, grey permed hair and glasses that hung from a cord — sometimes so full of crumbs that birds would perch for a feed. She was also, quite surprisingly, an enthusiastic wrestling fan. Nothing could interrupt the wrestling on TV on a Saturday. It was her…