Grandma’s out of the closet

May 11, 2011

My first year of blogging is quickly coming to a close, and I think I owe it to you to come clean.

Yes, I’ve been holding out on you.  There’s one family member I haven’t introduced you to.

Great Grandma Bean.

Great Grandma Bean is not a grandmotherly sort.  She can drink you under the table, and you won’t even know she’s drinking because she’s talking so damn much that it seems impossible she would have time to ingest anything. 

Grandma worships crystals and other strange shit.  She’s got a self-diagnosed case of fibromyalgia that she talks about.  A lot. 

She’s into miracles.  And really it is a miracle that her liver hasn’t given out on her. 

She’s opinionated, obnoxious when she’s drinking (and often when she’s not), and you can go without seeing her for two years, and when you see her again, she’ll be recycling the same stories that she was telling the last time you saw her.

Grandma lives with her boyfriend Dewey.  Grandma is old as dirt, and Dewey is even older.  Recently, Grandma was exhibiting signs of severe dementia, and she had the family worried until an economy-sized bottle of rum was found in the washing machine and another in the dishwasher. 

Papa called Grandma on Mother’s Day.  Their conversation went like this:

Papa:                     Happy Mother’s Day.

Grandma:            Huh?

Papa:                     Happy. Mothers’. Day.

Grandma:            WHAT?!

Papa:                     HAPPY. MOTHERS’. DAY.

Grandma:            Who is this?

Papa:                     It’s me, Mother.

Grandma?           Mary from Medicaid?

Papa:                     No, Mother, it’s me!

Grandma:            Burt from the Pawn Shop?

Papa:                     MOTHER!

Grandma:            Let me put Dewey on the phone. 

Note:     Dewey’s hearing is worse than Grandma’s.

Papa:                     NO!!!

Grandma:            Is that you, Boo Boo?

Papa:                     YES. IT’S. ME.

Grandma:            Well, I’m sitting up.  I’m taking nourishment.  I’m ambulatory…. I was playing Bingo last year at the senior center when a young man in a trench coat walked in and flashed us [graphic description of erection deleted]…. I’m very concerned about Obama’s birth certificate. I heard it was a forgery….

When I walked in, Papa was asleep on the couch.  Grandma was on speaker phone talking about a doctor’s appointment she had seven years ago.  I’d heard the story before, and then she started over.

Grandma:            Well, I’m sitting up.  I’m taking nourishment.  I’m ambulatory….

I kicked Papa, startling him into consciousness.

Papa:                     MOTHER. I. HAVE. TO. GO. NOW.

Grandma:            But, Boo Boo, you didn’t even wish me happy Mothers’ Day.

 

Part II:  Grandma unleashed by Papa

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Kisses!

{ 6 comments… read them below or add one }

Arohanui May 11, 2011 at 2:30 am

LOL! Well, at least she’s taking nourishment!

Irene May 11, 2011 at 9:16 am

That’s funny! Sounds alittle bit like my husband’s mother who is also old as dirt (93 this year).

A woman after my own heart! At least she didn’t get all flustered over an erect penis. My MIL would have gotten all disgusted and insulted at just the mere mention and sight of “penis”.

I must meet her! She and my son then can talk eachother’s ears off.

Then the three of us can go and have a couple drinks somewhere.

Christi May 11, 2011 at 10:44 am

Oh, this is SO funny! Yep, I know a few folks like this. In fact, I may already be showing some similar traits myself, and I’m still in my 30s!

Ally May 11, 2011 at 2:51 pm

Some days I swear I don’t want to be like that when I get older. Other days I think it might not sound so bad…. 🙂

Luna May 11, 2011 at 9:28 pm

sounds a bit like my grandma too… it was my dad’s first mother’s day without her this year…

Kristi Alice May 11, 2011 at 10:33 pm

Ha Ha Ha!! Wish I could make that into a sitcom script!

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