Aunt Dee and I often talk about how Grandma seems to have relapsed and dealing with her is frequently like dealing with a child or a grouchy adolescent.
The other day Grandma draped herself in the doorway of my room and goes, "What time is Aunt Dee coming? 3 o'clock?"
This is the first I've heard of this plan, so I say, "What?"
"Aunt Dee comes every Saturday to take me out for pizza and to get my hair done."
It's a simple statement, but Grandma's body language is priceless here. She's rolling her eyes, shaking her head, and showing a solid amount of attitude for a 91 year old. I can tell that her inner monologue is something along the lines of, "Isn't that sooooooo lame??? Pizza's ok, I guess, but why would I want to get my hair done? I could spend the afternoon sleeping and watching Harrison Ford movies and she wants me to get my hair done? Totally, totally lame!"
This was a pretty funny display of swagger from Grandma, except for the fact that it was actually a Sunday and Aunt Dee was out of town.
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