So in a previous post, I talked about the household where dysfunction runs rampant, aka the house where my grandma, grandpa, aunt, uncle and mother reside. Apparently my grandma got wind of the post (only wind, she did not actually read the post) and was like, “Why would she write about us?” Why? I mean the answer to that question is pretty obvious, right? Because it’s good material! Yes, there may be a time where I have to draw the line and keep certain pieces of information to myself, but I’m going to lay a lot of other shit on the table. My intention is not to hurt anyone’s feelings. I will not be malicious. I’m simply providing entertainment for the masses; entertainment for the 50 people that read this blog.
Now, having said all that, just a few short days later my grandma came into my work and tried to sell me her shoes. Yes, the shoes that were currently on her two feet. No, she didn’t offer to give them to me. No, she asked if I wanted to buy them from her. My grandma is a very generous lady and probably saved my siblings and me from sleeping on the streets much of our lives when we were younger, but she will not hesitate to hand you something like she’s giving it to you and mention how much she paid at the same time. Like, “I thought you’d like this cute top I found at the thrift store. It was only $3.” Which makes you wonder, should I pay her for this? It makes things very confusing. She’s so entertaining.
Also entertaining was the waiter at the restaurant last week that came by our table and asked, “How is everything tasting?” Which would have been a normal question had we already been served our food. Rob and I just looked at each other and then I said, “Umm… well, I’m not really sure yet since we don’t have any food.” That waiter just totally blew his cover. We thought he looked like an alien, but now we KNOW he’s an alien.
Oh, and Rob farted so loud in his sleep the other night that it woke him up and he shouted, “What was that?!” He makes me smile even at 3:00am.