Nov

The Counselor, the Whiner, and the Tactless

We were all sitting around talking about what our mob names would be. Grandpa didn’t understand the game. Grandma understood but she didn’t want to say anything that would hurt someone’s feelings.

Lee: Okay, this is how you play: you pick out a name with ‘the’ in front of it that describes what you would consider that person’s prominent trait is. For example, I think Beth’s mob name would be (he thinks for a moment), I got it! Beth’s mob name would be ‘the Counselor.’

Everyone laughed and agreed.

Me: So I think Lee’s name would be…hmmmm…uh… (I start laughing) Lee’s mob name would be ‘the Whiner.’

We all uproariously laugh as Lee whines about it.

Our fourteen year old daughter knew she was next. You see, being the age she is, she can be a little clumsy. She is constantly running her big toe into things and if you’re a guy you don’t want to get to close to her when she is talking. She tends to swing her arms when she talks and they invariably hit a guy right where it counts. Grandma decides to get in on the game.

Grandma: I have the perfect name for Peanut.

Lee: Good, good! What do you think her mob name would be?

Grandma: Her mob name would be ‘the Nutcracker!’

Lee shot his soda pop out of his mouth and we all were on the floor rolling from laughter.

Grandpa: I don’t get it.

Grandma: You know, Peanut is always accidentally hitting people in the privates? So she would be ‘the Nutcracker.’ You get it now?

Grandpa: Not really…explain it to me.

Grandma: I’ll explain it to you in the room a little later.

Grandpa: Why not now?

Grandma rolls her eyes.

Grandma: You know what Grandpa’s name would be? Hey Vinny, here comes ‘the Tactless.’

Grandpa: Could you tell me why you would call her ‘the Nutcracker?!” I mean that makes me think of someone getting hit in the privates.

Grandma: That’s what I said.

Grandpa: You know, that reminds of a story from my childhood.

Grandma: Don’t tell that story.

Grandpa: The one where my friend got whacked in the privates on a camping trip…

Grandma: The Tactless strikes again.

Nov

Vamp me Wicked City Woman

Dad and Mom telling us what it’s like to get older.

Dad: When you’re young you tend to take for granted all that you are able to do.

Mom: Like walking.

Dad: Yeah, like walking from the bedroom to the bathroom in the middle of the night. When you’re young you don’t even have to get up to pee but when you get old you have to get up three or four times to pee. I can’t make it the bathroom. I have to keep a big bucket in my room for those late night pee runs.

Mom: You don’t need to let them know all the details Harold.

Dad: I’m just preparing them for their old age. Take hair for example; it will fall off the top of your head but grow in areas you never thought hair could grow in. Hairs coming out my ears and nose at a fast rate these days. For example…

Mom: That reminds me. Don’t let me forget to cut off the eyebrows that have grown on your nose when we get in the room.

Dad: See? So much hair in my nose that it looks like eyebrows.

Mom: And boobs, don’t get me started on the boobs.

Dad: I wanna hear about boobs.

Mom: You’re a pervert, ya know that?

Dad smiles.

Mom: See what happens? When you get older you lose all sense of tact. You say any and every thing that is on your mind. Close that trap, Harold. Don’t you say another word…

Dad: I’m your pervert.

Mom: And you say what you want anyway when you get old. You don’t care what anyone thinks.

Dad opens his mouth to say something else.

Mom: Not another word! Clam up and give me your shot.

Dad: Vamp me wicked city woman. That my Viagra?

Mom: Your insulin shot Sicko.

Oct

Grandma’s in the Halloween Costumes

Peanut and I had taken Grandma to town to run a few errands and when we got home we all sat down and had dinner together.

Grandma: Did you see the Halloween costumes in the back of the store?

Grandma brings her voice down to a loud whisper. The whole table can hear her.

Grandma: Did you see the ones for those kinds of girls?

Me: What kind of girls?

She whispers louder in her sweet grandma tone.

Grandma: You know, the girls that are sluts, Dear.

Grandma: Those costumes were just nasty.

Lee eggs her on.

Lee: What were they like?

Grandma: Tassels for the boobies and skimpy little shorts that wouldn’t even cover a baby’s bottom.

Grandpa: Doesn’t sound bad to me. You should have bought one for yourself.

Grandma: Hush up! You are one sick perverted old man. I would never wear tassels. They would hang down to my knees.

Lee: That does sound pretty raunchy. Was the costume red or black?

Grandma: Oh no, they were a pink color.

I get in on the game.

Me: Well they couldn’t have been for those kind of girls because those kinds of girls usually only wear black or red.

Grandma got on her serious face.

Grandma: Really? In my day the sluts of the world wore pink. I believe the proper name for the shade of pink they wore was…let me think a minute. Oh, yes. Now I remember. We called it ‘Titty Pink.’

Jun

Not a Word or Else She’ll Flip you the Bird

Mom: I didn’t sleep well last night. I woke up at 2:00am and couldn’t go back to sleep. I laid there wondering why…did I eat something that kept me awake, was someone in the family hurt, was there something wrong? So I just laid there and did a little prayin’ just in case.

Me: You know, Mom. It doesn’t necessarily have to be something wrong when you don’t sleep. Maybe you just couldn’t sleep.

Mom: Maybe I was supposed to pray, I don’t know.

Dad put in his two cents: When I can’t sleep because of some problem I pray one time and only one time then I figure the big guy in the sky will take care of it. I really don’t feel the need to control it.

Mom shot Dad a look and flipped him the bird.

Mom: Well, aren’t we just Mr. Perfect?!

Me: Have you tried calming your mind, Mom?

Mom: There are just too many distractions and thoughts to take care of.

Me: You could try clearing your mind. I find that if I can’t sleep I use it as a good time to clear my mind so I focus on my breathing and keep shifting my focus to think of nothing every time a distraction tries to pop up.

Mom stuck her tongue out at me: Well, laa dee dah Ms. Perfect.

This whole time Sissy was sitting at the table being absolutely quiet.

Mom shot a look at Sissy: You want to put your two cents in?!

Sissy kept her head down and smiled: I’m not going to say one word…not one.

Mom: Smart girl…

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