My grandmother is a creature of consistency. Any divergence from the norm merits a reaction.
Case in point, we are at IHOP and they bring her strawberry and banana pancakes. She didn’t expect the whip cream and demands, “What’s this?”
The waiter, accustomed to curmudgeony, old people smiles. “it’s your pancakes. I’ll eat them if you don’t want them.”
My grandmother laughs and apologizes.
He leaves the table and she whispers, “I thought it was a birthday thing with the whipped cream.”
Mental note: Whipped cream shakes grandma up.
Did I mention the ride to the mall? I drove. Normally, I employ GPS, but Grandma decided she is better.
I have to admit, the admonition to, “Stop there’s a red light,” or “Turn on Sharon Rd. It’s coming up…coming up…now turn” were quite an experience.
It was GPS for the anal retentive.
She also did not appreciate when I took a shortcut and diverged from her directions. She seriously thought I would get us lost.
Last but not least,when she finished her eggs and turned to her pancakes, which sat beside her for half an hour, she became enraged. “How the hell do they expect me to eat off this little plate?!”
She tried to flag down the nearest employee to help her by madly waving her hand and yelling, “Waiter! Bus boy! You come here.”
I turned around and realized he was the host and he was seating the table behind me. Poor guy.
He came over and she demanded a larger plate. The waitress had to come and help out because he’s the host. Poor poor host.
I do enjoy the fact that she’s old enough to yell at anyone and they take it. That is a definite plus to being over 80.