In fact, she has decided to rename herself-Grandemere. Truly, we thought it was a bit of a joke, but apparently not. Every message she leaves for me-"Hello dear, it is Grandemere."
She is truly meaning it.
My cousin Mary Kate got a little ill over the whole thing declaring that Granny CANNOT after this many years decide to rename herself. Her name is Granny. Period.
She will leave the funniest messages, and you always know that it is her when there is a hangup on the answering machine because her tv is at an ungodly decibel and you can hear it in the background before the hangup.
The other day she calls and is asking me about a playpen. She says that she has heard that play pens are not used these days-they call them something else.
I tell her that they sell play yards and pack-n-plays, and she laughs and says that she wants to get one for us. She hears that they sell them at Babies R Us.
I told her that I would love to go look at some with her. She says that she knows there is a Babies R Us nearby, but she cannot remember where.
This is the rest of the conversation:
Me: "It is over by Home Depot." Granny: "Yes, I can never remember the name of Home Depot." Me: "It is right over there, and we can go look together." Granny: "What do they call people who eat other people?" Me: hysterical laughter, dropped the phone. Me: picking the phone back up, "WHAT?!? Cannibals?" Granny: "Yes-that's it." Me: "Why on earth did you ask that?" Granny: "I just couldn't sleep last night trying to remember the term they use for people who eat other people. It kept me up."
I had to let her go at this point. I was still losing it with laughter.
Seriously-Home Depot to Cannibals? You never know where your conversation will go with Grandemere.
It's just me-and all of my idiosyncrasies. I work full time, I am married, and I love my dog. We just adopted a baby girl. I am completely contradictory, I am a girlie girl, and I am impatient. I like breakfast for dinner. I like apples and peanut butter. I like wine. I like entertaining. I like sleeping. I like labels and I can be a b-with an-itch when I want to be or am pushed. I want to give my baby every opportunity in the world, and I want to teach her values and the rewards of hard work. I want more children and am scared to death of the uncertainties of adoption even though I have already done it. I love my husband. I hate that I weigh the most I ever have in my whole life. I want my husband to make a zillion dollars a year, and I want him to put up his laundry and clothes when I ask. I want what most people want-and here is my story-day by day!
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