Monday, October 5, 2009


ME: Where were you, Grammy? I’ve been worried sick.

GRAMMY: I went to see a friend at the home.

ME: The home?

GRAMMY: Yeah. You know. That place you occasionally suggest I might like.

ME: That’s not true, Grammy. I’d never put you in a home.

GRAMMY: Damn right. You’d never see a penny of my money if you did.

ME: So, how is your friend?

GRAMMY: Nuttier than peanut brittle. Thinks she’s the Queen of England. Thought I was Princess Margaret.

ME: Princess Margaret?

GRAMMY: The Queen of England’s sister. How dense are you? Anyway, I played along. Got the whole damned place in on the act.

ME: You encouraged her delusion?

GRAMMY: She was happy, Barbara. For fifteen minutes of her lousy life she was happy.

ME: Fifteen minutes? That was a short visit.

GRAMMY: Yeah, well, the idiots who run the place threw me out.

ME: Why? What did you do?

GRAMMY: Oh, one of the aides refused to curtsy, so we tied her up and ordered a beheading.

ME: Grammy, you didn’t!

GRAMMY: Of course I didn’t. She apologized and we granted her a pardon. (sigh) Someone always has to ruin the fun.

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1 comment:

I'm Jet . . . said...

Well, at least Grammy was open to pardoning the poor aide.

Haggy is the wv of the day. Haggy, shaggy -- a head rolling along the nursing home floor can be quite baggy.

It's late. I'm tired!