LUNCH

ME: Grammy? What happened to the fish I bought you? There were four, now there’s only one.

GRAMMY: That damned cat of yours decided to have one for lunch.

ME: Oh, no!

GRAMMY: Oh, yeah. Then Julius decided to give it a try. Swallowed his down quicker than the cat.

ME: He . . . he ate it?

GRAMMY: Well, what else would he do with it? The kid is a bag of bones. He must be starving on that diet of tofu and leaves you feed him.

ME: But . . . it was a fish. It was . . . alive. And you let him eat it?

GRAMMY: I didn’t let him, Barbara. I told you he was quick about it. And what’s the big deal? Haven’t you ever heard of sushi?

ME: Grammy!

GRAMMY: Oh, calm down. I made it to the fishbowl before he ate the rest.

ME: But then, what happened to the third fish?

GRAMMY: . . . . .

ME: Grammy?

GRAMMY: Well, I had to see what all the fuss was about. They don’t taste half as good as they look.

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A PRESENT

GRAMMY: What am I supposed to do with these damn things?

ME: Nothing, Grammy. You just look at them. Aren’t they beautiful?

GRAMMY: You want me to sit around all day and stare at a couple of fish who can’t do more than swim in circles inside a stupid bowl that’s gonna fill up with fish shit that I’m gonna have to clean?

ME: I thought they might brighten this place up a bit, Grammy. And I thought you might like to have some company when I’m not here.

GRAMMY: So you brought me fish? For company? Lord, I can just imagine the conversations we’re gonna have. Too bad I don’t have one of those internet thingies so I can tell all the world about them. (sigh) Oh, well. At least you didn’t bring me a mime.