A Conversation with Grandma
“Hi, grandma.”
Hi, grandma.
“Hello, dear. It’s so good to see you.”
Hello, dear. Why don’t you visit more often?
“It’s great to see you, grandma.”
I’ve been really busy recently, okay?
“How was the drive?”
Too far away to visit more often?
“Oh, fine.”
For four and a half hours, I thought about all of the things I could be doing besides driving for four and a half hours.
“Good.”
If it was so fine, why don’t you visit more often?
“How have you been?”
I have absolutely nothing to say to you, so why don’t you talk for a while?
“Oh, fine.”
So, so lonely. And then you come in here like I’m a burden to you? A full quarter of your DNA is mine and I want it back.
“Good.”
You want me to ask how your arthritis is? Well, I won’t. You’ll have to make me.
“A little pain from the…”
Say it. Say it…
“The arthritis?”
Damn.
“Oh, a little.”
Score one, grandma.
“Well, you look great.”
You look like lukewarm pudding.
“Thank you.”
You show up for a visit just to lie to me?
“Hey, grandma, are you thirsty?”
I have to get out of here. I have to get out of here!
“Oh, no.”
Not so fast, Seargent Stupid.
“Well, I’m thirsty. I’ll pick you up something from the vending machine.”
No air! No air! Police! Someone! Help!!!
“You don’t have to do that.”
You’ll have to do better than that.
“Be right back.”
I’m gonna take a walk around the block. Clear my head, maybe have a smoke.
“All right, dear.”
You win this round. But granny don’t play like that, G.
Michael Barker loves his grandmother dearly. He lives, writes and improvises in Chicago. Send your familial horror stories to michael@professoryeti.com.