Sunday, November 22, 2009

Dear Grandpa,

I've been thinking about you today.  There are a lot of things I'd like to tell you, and since I'm known to ramble I'd better get right to the point(s).

You don't have to give me all the change out of your pockets every time I hug you.  It's not part of the contract.  I mean, it's nice and everything, and comes in incredibly handy if I need bus fare or to use a pay phone (who even does that anymore?), but it's completely unnecessary.  You probably know that, but I just want to make sure you don't think I expect it, like the longer the hug the more quarters I get, or like I think you're a big, huggable slot machine or something.  You sound nothing like a slot machine.

I love how you have an entire vegetable crisper full of chocolate bars.  I don't need to explain why.  It's amazing for so many reasons that are all entirely obvious, especially if you're a woman.  Which you aren't, because you're my Grandpa.

For the record, when you told Mark that of course there was mix in the rye - the ice - that was one of the greatest moments in Grandpa history EVER.

The second greatest moment in Grandpa history was when you almost refused to have your pacemaker put in because they were going to put it in the right side of your chest.  Sure, I agree, maybe it would have been in the way of the butt of your rifle when you're hunting, but you probably didn't have to be so stubborn about it.  You know, that whole honey vs. vinegar debate.

I have to admit that I'm a little disappointed I didn't inherit the "eyes in the roof of your mouth" trait from you.  Mind you, I've never seen actual concrete proof that you have eyes in the roof of your mouth, but I can only assume that you do since whenever you're asleep in your recliner and I try to change the channel you grumble at me to turn it back.  I really wish I had inherited it, because it would make fall-asleep-on-the-couch-watching-movies-Sundays a lot more productive since I wouldn't have to keep backtracking to all the parts I dozed off through.

Anyhow, as far as Grandpas go, you're a pretty damned good one.  I love you and miss you terribly.  Can't believe it's been 10 years.


No comments:

Post a Comment