Friday, September 18, 2009

Stuff My Grandparents Say

Grandparents (and "old people" in general) say the darndest things. Mostly because, they've lived long enough and have paid their dues and can pretty much say whatever they please...at least that's what the four of them tell me. I can't wait to be a grandmother some day. I'm happy now just being where I am, but I'm looking forward to getting to say whatever I want. I kind of do now...mostly, they're inner monologues, but every now and then (especially since being babied has taken away most of my filter), something ingenious and mean will slip out. It's very liberating. 

But for the majority of the time, grandparents just say crazy things. Usually they make no sense...they're completely quotable...and it makes you love them even more. Here are a few statements my grandparents have bestowed upon us...
 

Starring:
Mamaw and Papaw G (Mom's Parents)
Mamaw and Papaw A (Dad's Parents)


(The day we found out the twins were girls...up until this point, Papaw G was adamant they were boys.)

Ruth: Hey Papaw! 

Papaw: Weell heeeeeeeeeeeeey...well well, heeeeey...now who is this? Is this Bogue...or Weejer?

Ruth: Hey Papaw...it's Ruth. 

Papaw: Weelll....Ruthie R Ruthie...I knew that! You didn't even let me guess. 

Ruth: Okay, Papaw...well, we have some news! 

Papaw: They're boys, ain't they? I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT! Chester and Lester!

Ruth: Actually, Papaw...they're GIRLS! 

Papaw: GIRLS?! Two of 'em? Well, IIIIIII'll BE! That's great!! Well, shucks...I was way off. I would have bet my right arm they were boys. But girls...that's just great! You know, I've always said girls were the best. Don't tell your uncles. So, Myrtle and Gyrtle! 

Ruth: Yep! Now, you have to teach two more girls how to poop in the woods on a homemade twig toilet. 

Papaw: Well, of course I can do that! Somebody's got to teach them. Well, hang on, let me get Mamaw. SNUUUUUUUUFFFF!! It's Ruthie! They're BOYS---no, no wait! GIRLS!!

Mamaw: (voice muffled and distant as she approaches the phone) Well, Clyde...which are they? Boys or girls?

Papaw: They're girls, Snuff, that's what I said. Good gracious, Daphne...listen up. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------

(On a cruise with the whole family including grandparents...eating supper one night...waiter comes around with a selection of bread, asking what we want.)

Noah: I'll take the pretzel roll...thank you.

Ruth: I'll take this one (pointing to whatever because who knew there were different names for bread).

Sara: I'll have the rye...thanks. 

Mamaw A: Hmmmm...grab me one of those french rolls, please. 

Papaw A: No, no...none for me. (Waving his hand in disapproval.) 

Ruth: You don't like bread, Papaw? You never get any...at least get one and one of us will eat it.

Papaw A: Nope. No bread. Ain't nothing in it that's healthy. It's just white bread. It's just empty calories...empty calories. 

Mamaw A: (silently enjoying her french roll) Shut up, Gerald. 

Papaw A: I'm just sa--

Mamaw A: Shut up, Gerald. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------

(Family sitting around in the living room talking...Noah notices Mamaw G's legs are badly scratched)

Noah: Mamaw, how did you scratch your legs so bad? 

Mamaw: (Looking down as she had apparently forgotten about the ginormous abrasion on her left shin) Ohhh...oh that. Yeah...well, I was in the garage...and you know how my thumbs give out. Well, I was leaning on that old table when--

Ruth: Wait...wait...back up..."you know how my thumbs give out" ??

Mamaw: Yeah, you know...sometimes if you're just using them, they buckle under the weight.

Ruth: Well, Mamaw...what kind of weight are you putting on your thumbs that they would buckle? Do you walk on them...or push semi-trucks with them? 

Mamaw: Well, no, Ruth...I just mean...you know how your knees can buckle...well, sometimes your thumbs do that, too. 

Noah, Dad, Mom, Papaw G, Ruth and Peter: No...Mamaw...we have not experienced that. That is not a real thing.

Mamaw: Well, y'all just hush. Y'all are mean. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------

(On a mission trip to Jamaica with Dad and Mamaw A...discussing our day-off adventures - hiking down Lover's Leap...a very steep and strenuous hike down to the beach and back up again)

Sara: Hey, Mamaw...do you want to hike down Lover's Leap with us? 

Mamaw: Is that the steep one? 

Ruth: Yes. 

Mamaw: You have to hike back up, though, right? (Cynicism in her voice...one eyebrow raised)

Sara: Well, you're more than welcome to just hike down, but then you'll have to live on the beach for forever. 

Mamaw: Well, heavens no...it's called Lover's Leap for a reason...after two stupid young people. And you know what happened to them...they both died. DIED. I ain't hiking down that. I'll watch you from the lookout and I'll call the helicopter when it's obvious you both need to be carried out. Have fun! Take some water with you.  


2 comments:

I like your comments.
Mom, keep it clean.
Have a fabtastic day!