Grandmas

My whole life I've grown up with only one grandma, but now that I'm married I have two. I have now come to the conclusion that old women with children are insane, all of them. I have enough experience now to establish a pattern.

My grandma is crazy. There is no question. When I was around 5, my grandma had brain surgery. She had an aneurysm and needed the blood clot removed. She was in a coma and there didn't look like there was much hope, so my family was going to 'pull the plug'.

(Did you know that there isn't really a plug to pull? There might be a feeding tube to get out or something of that sort, but there is no master plug that controls if a person lives or dies.)

Back to the point, my grandma always blames her craziness on the brain surgery, but I have it on good authority that she was crazy well before this happened.

My grandma was raised a good Catholic girl. When I say good Catholic, I mean it. She did whatever she wanted, judged everybody, cussed and sinned with the best of them. Then she confessed and was absolved according to the priest, a very good Catholic. She went into the hospital a loud, liberal Catholic woman and came out of it an equally loud, but now conservative Baptist woman. Weird, huh?

My grandma likes to weird people out. She says things completely out of left field. Her favorite joke is to tell about how her pussy ate Micky Mouse (I know, creepy.) My grandma has hit on every guy I've ever brought to meet her, she lies about the oddest things. She's funny and a nice lady, but she's crazy. No doubt about it. When I got married she pulled me aside and told me that the secret to making it last would be to give a lot of blow jobs. She counseled me to practice on a banana, gagging is bad. The reason she got divorced was because she got sick of doing it, she didn't like the taste. That's my grandma, and I love her.

I have a new grandma now, and she's psycho. Lets make that distinction, crazy vs. psycho. Crazy is an endearing, though sometimes frustrating quality. Psycho is a nerve wracking, sometimes volatile affliction. My new grandma is psycho.

My new grandma is a confused Catholic. Similar description to good Catholic, but not quite. She still does whatever she wants and sins and judges people, but she doesn't cuss. She doesn't go to mass, she watches the bible channel instead. She thinks this is good enough, but I know any priest would tell her she needs to receive communion and confess in order to be absolved. This information is in my secret arsenal of passive aggressive weaponry against her. There is only one problem: she doesn't think she ever does anything wrong, so she doesn't need to be absolved of anything.

Last weekend there was an incident which I like to think epitomizes the psychoness of this woman. I will now commence the telling of the New Family Drama.

Bobby and I went to new grandma's house last weekend. I work near her house and we haven't moved yet, so staying with someone who lives there on the weekends is a good situation for us. Usually we stay with his Aunt Linda (I love that woman, more on her another blog). New Grandma has been bugging us to stay with her on the weekends for weeks. She misses her grandson. So we went there last weekend instead of Linda's.

So, we arrive at her house around 10:30 at night. (We got there late because of my school.) When she opened the door, we knew immediately that there was going to be a problem. She asked if we planned to come there 'every damn weekend to work' because that is just not going to work for her. Bobby told her that if it was problematic, we'd go to Linda's. This really set her off, because she is in competition with her daughters. She doesn't like to think that we like her kids better than her (I know, psycho).

So, New Grandma starts yelling and screaming, telling us we are not going to Linda's. She told us to stay there that night, she would not allow us to go to Linda's. Of course, we left.

Now, the psycho as opposed to crazy comes next. We gather up our stuff and begin to leave. New Grandma follows us around the house and tells us "If you pick up that bag, you're never welcome in my house again!" We picked up the bag.

"If you walk out that door, you're never welcome here again!" We walked out the door.

"If you get in that car...!"

"If you start that car...!"

"If you leave this driveway...!"

Of course we left, and left howling with laughter. New Grandma was trying her best to do what she does, scare us into her control. She likes to think that she is the most important person in the family, and use this as leverage to control every move the family makes. However, I had a hard time being intimidated by this woman. She is 81 years old and 85 pounds, hunched over and almost doubled with back issues. That night in particular, New Grandma was in pink curlers with a ratty blue bathrobe on, standing on her front porch and screaming and shaking her fist at us in the middle of the night. She looked like a comic madwoman. I could be making this up, but I think I saw some warts spring out on her nose as it began to turn green.

That's my new grandma for you. She also called after we left to tell us we couldn't get on the freeway. Now it is as though nothing happened. She didn't apologize, she just didn't recognize the incident at all.

Psycho.

I do appreciate my crazy grandma a bit more now, though.

And remember kids, a good fart is just like a suddenly appearing and slowly dissipating warm spot in a pool, kinda nasty but it feels good.