My grandmother is far from the cookie making warm and cuddly grandmother that many are accustomed to. She shows her love and affection in different ways than most— mainly insulting everyone around her as a form of affection. While I sometimes doubt her people skills, I never doubt that she loves me, but that doesn’t make being around her easy.
Example: At my brother’s graduation party last year, she pinched my stomach and said matter of factly in front of 40 people, “you really should lose that”. I glared and her, informed her that she should probably be nicer to me and then told on her (along the lines of “Daddy! Your mother called me fat!”). Nothing a cigarette and a donut-hole couldn’t solve, but seriously.
Upon entering my cousin’s house in Frederick, I was greeted and asked the following questions by Gram over the course of my first hour:
1. Have you heard about the job? Tell me about the job. You really have not heard? When do you expect to hear? What was the position again?
No, I still have not heard and I don’t want to talk about it because that can’t be good! Next!
2. What is that on your chin? As she pokes it.
It is a pimple, thank you for pointing it out. [I have without fail one gigantic pimple on my chin each and every time I see her.]
3. Why are there holes in your pants? Why do you wear pants with holes in them? Why is there a big hole on your left knee but not your right knee? Did you pay for the holes in those pants?
They are in style!
[Another side note— there was further photographic confirmation that I should not wear my boyfriend jeans in public. They are like cockblocking myself. ]
4. Why are you not married? I am never going to be alive long enough to see you get married and have children!
I AM 23 YEARS OLD.
[Ally actually wanted to know the same thing, as a ring on any finger (I wear a ring on my right hand, middle finger) must mean you got yourself a husband.]
5. Why do you have that thing in your nose?
I was drunk and unemployed. Ha….just kidding.
6. Why did you ruin your beautiful skin with tattoos?
For the same reason I started smoking, Gram, everyone else was doing it.
And on, and on, and on. I am moderately concerned lightning will now strike me for bad mouthing the elderly and am fairly certain that if she ever found out that I was airing our dirty laundry, she would muster all her 86 year old strength to soundly whoop my ass. But the moral of the story is this— if you every think that the life you lead is exceptionally miserable (which I sometimes do), go visit my grandma. She will make you feel like your cup is incredibly full and life is completely worth living. Plus she would love the company. I hear Jacksonville is great this time of year.