Got a call from my grandmother today which is something. Agreed to go visit with her tomorrow afternoon which is even more noteworthy.
I'm an indifferent sort of grandchild. It may have something to do with the fact that my only remaining grandparent is certifiable. Like, lock the door when you go to sleep, certifiable. You know how every neighborhood has it's crazies? White Shopping Bag Woman. Potato Salad Lady. That Guy Michael Who Sings Along to his Unplugged Headphones. Well, my grandmother is one of these. Maybe she's Nice Little Fat Lady. Or Buys Eight Twinkies Woman. Or That Whacko Who Brings Apple Pies to Your Door at Four in the Morning. But she's something, alright.
So, I eschew her for her eccentricities. (Never mind the fact that I've very likely earned my own status as neighborhood weirdo). But tomorrow, I will go sit in her very posh living room, surrounded by the busts and collections of untranslated Greek plays that my uncle loves, and have tea and make her cinnamon toast and totally freak the hell out when she tries to use the oven.
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