My grandmother, my mom’s mother, died years before I was born. I’m told she was a very funny lady who loved a good practical joke. Grandma must have passed this funny bone down to my mom and then some trickled down to my sister and I. We love poking fun in a good-natured way and generally being brats. A fine example of this was walking into my kitchen and all my bar stools were stacked on my kitchen island–work done by my mother, the prankster, who had stopped by to pick something up. She knew it would freak me out. My mom said that her mother did this all the time. Now, when I lose or misplace anything I blame it on my grandma. I have a feeling she’s behind a lot of mischief in our home.
My parents are moving out of their home that they’ve lived in over 30 years to live in their new RV–that is another blog post all together. Anyway, while my mom was cleaning out their house, she found this sketch of my grandma that she did a while ago. She asked if I would like it. I said of course. My mom is an artist and I love anything that she has created. I brought the picture home and laid it on my bedroom ottoman in front of our window thinking I’ll get to framing and hanging it soon. My grandma has now been in my bedroom for over a month–just laying there with a twinkle in her eye and smirk on her face. I’ll get out of the shower and walk to my dresser to get dressed and there’s Grandma looking at me. I’ll walk by a basket of laundry thinking I should fold them, but opt to watch TV instead, then I look over and see Grandma staring at me and the guilt kicks in. My husband will want to get frisky, but then I remember Grandma is over there…at the foot of the bed…watching…and probablly giggling.
Grandma has to go.
I exorcised Grandma from our bedroom. Grandma now resides downstairs in a lovely frame of her own. I hope she likes her new home. I’m glad I’ve gotten to know her a bit and I hope she doesn’t scare me to death one of these days.