Zac Attack

I was sitting at the table flipping through the current issue of People. It includes a two page spread of Zac Efron pictures, most of which feature him shirtless (Side note, thank you People!). Grandma catches sight of this and goes, "Oooh, nice man." Then she continues, "He must be a Catholic."

"What?"

"He's wearing a chain."

"So?"

"Most Catholics wear chains. He must be Catholic." (I'm Catholic, this is news to me. I better go get some chains).

Grandma examines the magazine (or Zac's abs?) and is convinced. "Yup. The chain's in all the pictures. He's a Catholic." She gives a firm nod to rest her case.

Look closely though. Zac's necklace is not a cross, it's a shark tooth! Either Grandma's eyesight is going or she has a very skewed understanding of Catholicism.

Dang Quesadilla

Tonight I made myself a quesadilla for dinner. Obviously this falls smack dab into "Never heard of it!" territory.

"What's that?"
"A quesadilla. It's cheese and tortillas."

All these "illas" are way too ethnic for Grandma. But, she does love her some cheese, so she is holding back on her "Never heard of it!" pronouncement. Anything with cheese is definitely worth hearing of! I've been making sure to always have a block of cheddar in the house because cheese and crackers is probably the one thing I can rely on Grandma eating regularly and not forgetting about. She continues eyeing the mysterious quesadilla as I cut it and start to eat. "What is that, some kind of pancake?"

"Sure, kind of."
"Huh."

Grandma already made chicken noodle soup for herself, so I eat in the living room. When I come back to the kitchen, there is Grandma, hovering at the microwave and making her own little grilled cheese, no doubt inspired by the dang quesadilla!

Ok, Friendo?

When I left this afternoon Grandma was watching "No Country for Old Men." She's always liked action movies like "Die Hard." Of course Harrison Ford is her favorite actor, and she even went through a Jean Claude Van Damme phase. Still, even with her penchant for rough and tough movies, I don't know if she is ready for the brutality of Anton Chigurh.

(True story, I knew this movie would terrify me, so the first time I watched it I made sure my apartment was bolted and that no one was hiding in my bathroom or closet before I put on the DVD. Crazy, I know, but as I watched the movie I was very happy to be certain there were no psychotic killers lurking in my tiny studio).

I'm sure that basic cable cleaned up a lot of the movie, but I wonder what Grandma thought of it.

"How was the movie you watched this afternoon?"

"Gee, I forgot what it was."

And maybe that is for the best, friendo.


Aunt Dee's Recent Thefts:
Plastic rain kerchief (Obviously Aunt Dee had to be prepared for the torrential rains)
McDonald's Gift Certificates (A gift from Aunt Dee)

Waiting by the Phone

Grandma's sense of time has gotten even worse and now she seems to be ever more confused. I made her a nice, color chart of the pills she needs to take in a day, including pictures of all of them and special directions like which ones should be taken with food. Even with the visual reminder, she is still taking barely half of her prescriptions.

Today she had a doctor's appointment, so I reminded her last night to at least attempt getting the info into her brain. "Oh, no. I can't go. I have company coming tomorrow! Two of the girls I grew up with are coming to visit. I can't miss them!"

"Who?"

"Julia and Helen, they lived at #8 and I lived at #12 and they're coming over at 10am. I can't go to the doctor and miss them."

I'm a little skeptical of this plan and Aunt Dee is too. We wonder where she came up with this and if these two women are even still alive. On the bright side, as we guessed, Grandma forgot about her friends by morning and let Aunt Ellie take her to her doctor's appointment as planned. (Even though she has no recollection of going out. An hour after Aunt Ellie brought her home she called her back, "Do I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow?")

But, Julia and Helen are stuck in her brain now. At 5:30pm, "Where are they? They were supposed to be here 3 hours ago. You think they'd call."

At 8:40pm, "They called and were supposed to be here a half an hour ago. I don't know what's taking so long." (Nobody called).

It's kind of heartbreaking how she's so excited for this visit from her old friends and it's not going to happen. I try to soften the blow. "It's pouring out and they said the roads are flooded. They'll probably call tomorrow and arrange to come on a day with nicer weather."

"Yeah, that's a good idea. I'm going to bed then."

I Fought the Law

Grandma is getting extra feisty again! She came into my room the other night with one of her favorite complaints, "I opened the door and the hallway light is on!"

Here we go again. Frankly, this is one of the most annoying things to deal with, Grandma and her proud membership in the Con Ed Light Bulb Police Squad. She refuses to have more than one light on at a time. If you have the gall to put on two lamps, "Why are all these lights on? You're not reading, you don't need all these lights. You wouldn't want to see my Con Edison bill!"

The tenants are serious offenders in this battle. There is no outdoor light. They have the nerve to leave on the hall light until the husband gets home from work. Can you imagine?? Leaving a single light bulb on? When it's dark? For two or three hours?

So, Grandma is launching into her familiar tirade, and I am just not in the mood for it.

"They left the light on!"
"So? It's dark out."
"Why is the light on?"
"Because no one wants to come home in the dark."
"He can turn it on when he opens the door!"
"It's just one light bulb."
"They don't pay my Con Edison bill! You should see it. Aunt Dee asked why it was so much!"
"No, she didn't. Light bulbs don't drive up the bill. It's things like appliances and the heat."
"It's a 100 watt light bulb!"

This could go on forever. As we know, Grandma does not admit to being wrong and will say anything to get the last word if she's wound up. I'm just trying to read and besides that, I am with the tenants on this one. I say turn on all the lights! (Which would be a total of maybe 8 for our whole apartment?) My reply is, "So turn it off or get over it! What is there to talk about?"

Oh, Grandma is not happy with this display of freshness! She stomps off muttering to herself, "I don't need to listen to this sh-t! Turn off the lights or get your own house!" I'm not sure if that last bit is directed at me or the tenants. Ha!

Teen Angst

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.

Redecorating

I'm on vacation this week, so I get to catch up with daytime TV. I watched The Nate Berkus Show the other day and contemplated writing to Nate to get our house made over. Grandma's decor is firmly entrenched in the 1970s. We have pictures of me in her house as a baby and everything is exactly the same!

Wood paneling? Check.
Lots of mustard yellow? Check.
Oversized flower wallpaper? Check.

The kitchen

We are definitely in need of some serious redecorating. But, then I remembered Grandma doesn't do so well with change. She can't even remember where a single item like my frying pan came from. She keeps trying to get rid of her Christmas presents ("I don't know where these pants came from! They're not mine!"). A whole new set of furniture would totally through her off! I wouldn't be surprised if she thought she'd wandered into the wrong house somehow. Then she'd go out to the porch to check the number on the door. "This is my house, but I don't know whose furniture this is. I don't know where it all came from! Aunt Dee must have stolen my furniture and left this!"

I guess my dreams of redecorating will have to be put on hold.