Tales from my grandma

My grandma is so hard of hearing that she bought a whiteboard for us to write to her when she can’t understand what we’re saying, but her mind is still sharp and she has an amazing memory. She told us this random story about me when I was a kid. We were at their neighbor’s house in Missouri (a family friend) and I was about to go to bed when I said I was thirsty. He wanted to give me a soda, and my grandma was like, “Don’t you give her that soda, Harold! She ain’t allowed to drink those!” and he was like, “What? Well, she can drink orange juice, cain’t she?” and she said yes, and he said, “Well, we don’t have any, but we have oranges!” So he took one and rolled it around on the table, then poked a hole in it and told me to tilt my head back. And then he squeezed the orange juice straight into my mouth.


Just for context, this is my white, country grandma talking. And this is me at roughly the age she’s talking about:

me and lori's dog

This story is especially funny because there’s this long-running joke in my family about how one time when my mom and dad were dating (and she was a lot newer to the US of A than she is now), their friends were all over and she came out and asked, “Does anyone want some apple pie?” and of course everyone was like YES. And then she said, “Well, we don’t have any,” and walked out.

So, quick tip to anyone who wants to get on my parents’ good sides (you know who you are): all you have to do is offer something and then say you don’t have any. Use of the word “any” is key. It’s so easy! My dad doesn’t show his gun collection to my boyfriends anymore; he’s gotten pretty easy-going over the years.

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