Posts Tagged ‘BrainDrain’

Lest, BrainDrain a/k/a Master’s Daughter:


Before she steals all Grandma’s “good” stories, I thought I should add my two cents. I wrote these lines this morning and then sat here trying to remember Grandma stories. I know there are some; actually more than you would believe. It’s just really hard to remember them. There was the time grandma fell down a couple of the basement stairs and broke her ?foot ?wrist. Daughter of eleven children, was visiting and wanted to call an ambulance. Mom would not allow that.

No self-respecting woman would let an EMT in the house until she had crawled up the stairs, washed everything that got dirty in the fall, put on lipstick and combed her hair. Only then, was an ambulance called. I have not inherited this trait and I have been known to go to the emergency room in ratty sweat pants and shirt. I got very mad at my family, the time they made me get up off the van floor and sit in a chair with seatbelt because I had taken E-myacin and nearly vomited my life away. I refuse to comb my hair when I am in pain or vomiting. Ain’t happen’.

Oh, and then their is the time my soon-to-be husband was visiting and sat a water pitcher on the floor (we were playing cards). The intake of air, from all in presence in the room, sucked the oxygen from a three county area. He looked up at the open mouthed, staring faces, with a look of wonder. “What’d I do?” Teeth clenched, I whispered, “Pick it up, before she sees it.” But, it was already too late as the lack of oxygen had already gotten her attention.

There are certain things you just don’t do at Grandma’s house. Put things in the fridge without washing them off. She is actually trying to deny this at this point in her life but I remember the assembly line every payday when mom, dad, brother and I would unpack, wash, dry and shelf the groceries. Which I really didn’t understand when it came to can goods being stored in the basement. They had to be washed off again when you brought them up. Come to think of it, all canned goods had to be washed off again. You also don’t put things on the floor, not unless they can be decontaminated; nope, not even then. Feet are not allowed on the couch, but then bare feet are frowned upon anyway, and not wanted on the floor either. That may be it for this morning. That’s the extent of my memory.

I would be just as funny as Master Daughter, but she actually has a memory. One day we were talking and she relates a story about something that happened when she was two years old. I vaguely remembered the incident, and I was a lot older obviously, but it is not the “Remember that Christmas when you…” type of thing that is brought up every holiday so that you never forget it. Which is usually the point of those embarressing stories. I’m telling you, the girl’s memory is scary.

I, on the other hand, have been known to have a conversation about where to go on an upcoming holiday, walk into the dining room (from the location of the first conversation-the kitchen), sit down in a chair and look up at those living in the house and say, “When are we going to decide where we are going for the upcoming holiday?”

Only to be greeted by stares of disbelieve. Well, not anymore. They are used to it now. My lack of memory is legendary at this point. I tend to start conversations in the middle of topics. I forget I was just thinking about it and not already discussing it.

I feel like a fraud adding a humor tag to my blogs, after reading the ungrateful rat daughter’s, but hey, she’s got talent. I would like to point out that her Blog name is not BrainDrain but is actually Brain Debris.  I looked it up. I forgot.

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