What induces a ninety-one year old woman to baby talk… in the middle of a restaurant… or ever for that matter? What?
My grandmother can be a delightful lady; she has much to offer the world and is going strong… at almost ninety-one. But really the baby talk has got to stop. Tonight we had a lovely dinner at Pomodoris, a nice Italian Restaurant that makes to die for Ravioli San Remo, to die for I tell you. After nice little dinner salads (Grandma and I had the Balsamic Vinaigrette) Linda served the ravioli, she came back to the table with the pepper mill and offered fresh pepper grind all the way around. Grandma must have been staring at her shoes totally tuned into her orthopedics, because when Linda asked if we’d like pepper Grandma missed Mom and I waiting and then saying no individually. Linda bid us a fine meal and left us to peace. At which time Grandma, shaking her looking forlorn, in that FUCKING baby voice said, “I wanted some pepper, can’t I have some pepper? It would be so much better with fresh pepper.”
Patience was my only virtue, I think I’m now virtue-less.
Yes, she was happy after the fresh pepper, but it didn’t stop her baby talk.
Shoot me now. Please.
Sith,
Cele
So There Are Dreams, And...
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4 comments:
Love that woman, I really do.... but it often amazes me that she has reached her 90's as I see her perhaps 3 times a year and want to strangle her perhaps 3 times a year.
I kinda want to train Burp to say, "Grandma, when you talk like that... who are you implying is retarded? Me or you?.... Cuz, I certainly am not... you on the other hand.......?" LOL
Good thing I don't believe in Hell! hahaha
Some people believe this is hell.
I on the other hand don't believe in hell either.
I'm sorry, Cele... but I was reading this and howling... tears... flowing... stomach... aching...
Gawd, you crack me up.
Still howling.
I cam back for another round of giggles. Muchly needed. Thank you for you, Cele.
-Donavan
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