Anecdotes of Grandparents

  Alright, here's the blog form of the answer to that second 'about the author' page question.   What are your grandparents like?   Well, my grandparents are very interesting people. They certainly know a lot. But then again, whose grandparents don't? Well here we are taking the trip down memory lane again. *Coughs like an old person* WHEN I WAS A LITTLE GIRL... I HAD TO GET A RIDE TO SCHOOL FROM MY PARENTS. UP HILL IN THE SNOW BOTH WAYS. AND THE CAR WAS BAREFOOT, TOO. Heh. Yeah I think I'll take a slightly different approach to this story.   My grandmother was very unique lady. She came from a Swedish family, and was one half Swede by blood. She was really good at meeting people. Sometimes when we would go out to breakfast with my grandparents at Cracker Barrel,  it always happened that she would make friends with complete strangers. My grandpa would tease her and tell her to stop talking to strangers.
  When she wasn't making friends everywhere she went, she was usually doing something crafty.  She would make jewelry, and dream catchers, and she liked to do paint-by-numbers.  It was during one of these crafty moments when she and I were making an Easter egg basket together.  It was a big sturdy pink basket, and she had all these little things laid out that we were going to hot glue onto the basket.  Fake flowers, little iron on patches, buttons, ribbons, bows, and more.  We set to work creating the basket.  I would stick flowers and things on the basket where I wanted them, and she would help me glue them on (since apparently I was too young to be trusted with a hot glue gun.  Maybe they thought I would set the house on fire or something.  I can see it now, little me running through the house and stopping by the walls with my hot glue gun cocked and ready to squirt anybody who came around the corner).  Anyway, after a while the glue gun started to get pretty goopy, and those little invisible spider-web threads of glue started getting everywhere.  She just got kind of tired of trying clear them away, and eventually they were all over her, me, the basket, the table, and the fake flowers were starting to get glued together.  It was just a mess.  I remember trying to pick them off of her, and it took such a long time!

  She was always so kind to me, and I really shouldn't have been so mean to her.  Although, a 7 year old's idea of 'funny' is pretty much the same thing as mean.  There was one time when I stayed over at their house for the night, and she had tried to give me a bath.  She filled the tub up with water, and sat on the toilet lid and watched me take a bath.  (Again, this idea with not trusting kids to handle themselves... I don't think I would have drowned in four inches of water...) That night I was being an absolute goof ball and essentially amusing myself by laughing at my own jokes.  It was hilarious to me, but to her, since I was supposed to be taking a bath and not sitting there giggling like an ape, it started to get annoying.  That's when she started to threaten me.
  "Stop laughing and take your bath, or I'm going to get the flesh water!"
  Of course, she didn't really say flesh water, she said fly swatter, but I definitely heard flesh water.  And that just made it that much more hilarious.
  I sat there and laughed harder than ever now, and repeatedly teased her about it.
  "Flesh water!" I giggled, "Is that like water with chunks of flesh in it?!"
  To anyone else this would have been rather disgusting, but when you're already high on your own jokes there's no turning back.
  "Oh no!" I mocked, "Here she comes with the flesh water!"
  For a little while she just sat there glaring at me, and then she just walked out.  After that the laughter slowly ebbed, and when I stopped laughing I had to actually get ready for bed.

  Then, when I was still in grade school, and my parents were extremely busy with their jobs, my grandparents would come and pick me up from school.  Grandpa would park the car and come in to get me, and when we came out Grandma was usually asleep in the passenger seat.  Now you have to admit, that was just the prime opportunity for a practical joke.  I would walk up to the window very slowly, and then knock loudly on the glass.  I swear, every time she would freak out and glare at me, and I would just wave and grin back.  I was so evil.  But it was so funny.
  After they took me to their house with them, and I ate dinner and did my measly homework, my parents would come by to pick me up.  When I would say goodbye to them, I would give Grandma a hug, and then to say goodbye to Grandpa, we had this little ritual.  He would go stand across the living room, and I would run from one end of the room to his end and then jump at him to give him a hug and kiss.  This was okay until I started getting bigger, and then my parents made me stop because they said I was going to hurt him.
  In 2006, my grandmother passed away after becoming sick for a long period of time.  I have the intention of keeping these funny moments that I've just related to you as my memory of her.
  After that my Grandpa remarried, and thus created the memory of the Legless Shepherd, which I related to you all a few posts ago.
  I hope this has left you all feeling happy from the funny stories I have just shared. :)