Which way?

by Brian Keaney

Every Monday night is spaghetti night at my grandparents’ house.  When I was subbing I used to be a regular, but now that I’m back in an office I haven’t gone much.  I get out later, and they eat earlier, so it doesn’t work.  Every so often – usually on a holiday when we are all around – she will invite my immediate family over and cook for all of us.

Almost all of us had the day off, or at least didn’t have to go in to work, on Wednesday due to the snowstorm.  I was out plowing with my father when she called and invited us over that night.  I’m not so foolish enough to turn down a free meal, especially by such a great cook, so naturally I accepted.

I often get in trouble for repeating things others say, but as I point out when you are given such gems it would be a sin not to share them.  Dinner with my grandparents is usually good for at least one or two, and Wednesday was no exception.

After dinner my grandmother was doing the dishes, and apropos of absolutely nothing, she asked, “You know how they say the sun always rises in the east?”  We all agreed that we knew that, and she then said, while looking out the window above the sink, that the sun used to rise over there, but is now rising over here.  How can that be, she wondered?

Without missing a beat, my smartass mouth told her that it’s because “they moved east.”

“They did!” she exclaimed.  “They moved it south.”

I don’t know who, exactly, she thinks “they” are, but that’s some power they have.

The fact that I do tell these stories might explain my grandfather’s comment earlier in the day.  While my father stayed nice and warm and dry in the truck playing with his plow, I braved the elements to  shovel them out.  After I reached their front steps my grandfather stuck his head out the door to say hello.  I told him to remember which of his grandsons was there shoveling when he was writing out his will.

“I already wrote it,” he deadpanned.  “You were out a long time ago.”

Enhanced by Zemanta
Advertisements