Every year, I ask her to hang on long enough til I get there, just so I can see her one more time. She already has her coffin special made. She’s perfectly willing to use it. Look at her, all grinning in her coffin. She’s a pissah!

I always liked to just show up in her dooryard and surprise her, but the last time that happened, I was afeared I would give her a heart attack, so now I give her warning, even though she doesn’t remember stuff too well anymore.My long-suffering younger brother and I decided we didn’t ever want to put this look on her face again. Would you? It scared us.

Hmmmm, seems like there’s a lot of free boobing going on in this family.

I’ve enlisted both my BFF’s from highschool to look in on her and cheer her up, and they are both fabulous about it. In fact, they love her too. Grammie seems to have more honourary grandchildren than she can remember names of. I just tell her to call everyone “Dear”. Everyone likes to be called dear. Except me. I cried the one time she couldn’t remember my name.

Grammie’s all fundamentalist religion, the kind that frowns on the Tool of Satan stuff I do, like palmisty, tarot, and even healing. I attribute that to ignorance. She had a hard life, and has to believe there is something better. It pains me that she fears for my very soul. Because I do not believe the exact same things that she does. Anyone who does not believe the exact same things that Grammie does is in great eternal peril of the soul.

When I was younger, I teased her more than I do now. She would just shake her head and worry about my soul, because I was all bad arse.

One time, a client had given me a souvenir shop voodoo doll that she had picked up in an actual souvenir shop in New Orleans. Not a real one or anything. She told me an amusing story about how she had punked an obnoxious customs officer in an elaborate joke, culminating with the revelation of the voodoo doll. It had me rolling on the floor, and needing to pee.

I told Grammie this story, about how she had enlisted various people to go through customs and inquire if this officer was experiencing ass pain. (I regret that Americans don’t use the much kinder term arse) Quite a lot of them asking got the interest of the officer, and when my client revealed the voodoo doll, it had a pin sticking out of its arse.

Then I ceremoniously presented Grammie with the souvenir voodoo doll and told her it was her birthday present. I’m so very thoughtful that way.

Poor Grammie.

As soon as I left, she burned it in the stove. Yes, that very stove in the background of the gobsmacked Grammie picture.

She never did know what to make of me. But you know what? She loves me anyway. And I’ve stopped messing with her. There are plenty of other folk to mess with. She’s earned a rest from my crap.

The End.

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Grammie’s Present

Create your own puzzles at PuzzleBee.com!

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April 14 Puzzle

Lord knows my Mom was no June Cleaver, not even close. If the truth be known, she had criminal tendencies. She just couldn’t resist getting one over on someone.

Ma was funny, and had the dirtiest laugh known to man. She was a surrogate mom to a lot of my friends, especially Torch and The Big V. She gave them a place to stay when they needed it, fed them, and made them feel welcome in her home. They loved her too.

She sat in her armchair and barked orders like a general. If you did not immediately intuit what she was indicating, she would put the idiot timbre in her voice, as if you had taken leave of any good sense you may have been born with.

It never bothered me. I knew I was smarter than her.

When she used manipulation to try to get me to do something for her, I would just tell her it wasn’t necessary to trick me because I was good to old people. She would smirk. It was all in the game.

But you know what? Nobody has a perfect mom, and nobody is a perfect mom.

I knew that she loved me. And I surely loved her.

Mom, I really really miss you. And I held your birthday party on April 14th just like you planned it. The sister that took over the funeral and ransacked your home didn’t want that, so I held it in your building, where all of your friends were.

We remembered to celebrate your life on your birthday. And I displayed this picture of you, with the happiness shining from your eyes.

The next day we buried you. It’s been three years. I’m a total snotbag just writing these few words. I love you Mom.

I’m going to close the comments on this post. Just this one.

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Mom

“What did you find, Ass Burger Boy?”

“This.”

“I can’t see it, it’s dark. NAME the object you are

holding in your hand.”

(frustrated) “THIS!” I can imagine him pointing to

the object in the dark.

This scenario also repeats itself when I’m driving, or doing something else

that needs full visual attention.

And my eyesight ain’t as sharp as it used to be.

When I can’t discern the object, he will edge closer

and closer to show me, rather than name the thing.

It drives me cah-ray-zee.

Not a long drive these days, I might add.

This is just one quirk I figure is attributable to Asperger’s Syndrome.

Did any of you watch Dawson’s Creek?

The boy is a dead ringer for Dawson.

Out of his mouth come the most bizarre and inappropriate things. He likes to shock people.

The other day, he asked me (a la boxers or briefs)

“Zucchini or cucumber?”

See, your mom isn’t someone you’re supposed to feel

comfortable asking that to.

He doesn’t hear my explanation of this concept (for what?…the zillionth time?)

He is doubled over with laughter.

Smartarse. Thinks he’s Tom Green.

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The Drive to Crazy? Not a Long One

And, if you click the disturbing image, it will take you to her Tickle Me Tuesday thingie.

I lost a lot of data when I transferred it from my 80 GB hard drive to my 250 GB. I had a lot of military funnies lined up that had been smuggled to me by one of my Air Force Brothers.

However, I am resourceful, and still have other brothers. One of whom is shown here with his son who had just been introduced to the bottle. I’m sensing he is missing the boobies.

If that doesn’t do it for you, well just go to my shop and drool all over my preciousssss

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Tickle Me Tuesday Part Deux