my father's father stands up tall, my mother's face hangs on the wall my cousins specialize in screens but i use my hands to earn my means

I follow you always, yet I never speak. I shrink in the morning, and grow when the day leaks. I mimic your stance, yet never complain. Who am I, that dances in sun and hides in the rain?

In the cupboards I'm found, my patterns are sure to charm her. I'm stepped on the ground, or on a charming knight's armor.

Before me you wait, you’re but one in a line. Through me you travel, only one at a time. I may require a card or a coin. Beyond me you continue, other entrants you join. My task unending - greet the crowd single file. My purpose accomplished, I am a

Depending on who you ask, I can be a cold projectile, I can be a cocktail, or I can make a situation become graver the longer it lasts. What am I?