Oh my good lord.
I almost took it to the ring with Esteban’s grandma Gen.
The same woman whose own son Ward chose going to Vietnam rather than spending another moment with. I mean, can you imagine ‘Hmmm’. People trying to shoot me’ or life with Mother’ easy pick.’
I can hardly blame him. The woman is evil, I tell you. EVIL!
Here’s the backstory:
Last year, during the Mother’s Day brunch, I got stuck sitting next to her, so I told her about how Esteban and I were researching his family tree. She got all huffy and essentially told me that I was wasting my time because someone already did all that’ well, her side anyway, and that was the good side and the only one that mattered, and published it in a book. She offered to let me borrow it, to enter into my genealogy program. I said, sure, and then the next morning, she called me and asked when I was going to come and get the book. I distinctly remembered rolling my eyes and then deciding that if I didn’t come and get it right that second when I had time, she’d be hounding me and then get all insulted that I hadn’t picked it up immediately. So I did. And when she dug out that book and handed it to me, I kid you not, there was a quarter inch of dust on it.
So that was last May. I entered some of the stuff’ the book is the size of a phone book. And basically picked it up whenever I had a free moment. You know, because I have such an empty life with nothing to do. Christ. I don’t even have enough time to shop for a maid to clean my house.
Right after Christmas, she decided she wanted it back.
Right that minute.
She called Esteban and asked him to bring it over to her the next time he visited. She called our house at 7:15 a.m. on a Saturday morning and asked me to bring it to her the next time I went to her house (not bloody often, by the way). She called Ward and asked HIM to get the book.
And it’s probably our fault. I mean, it wasn’t that high of a priority. It’s a genealogy book, not an expose on Wayne Newton’s sex life, not a recipe for Red Lobster’s Cheese Biscuits, not the secret of life itself. A book about dead people. That’s all. Not even an especially GOOD book on dead people. Just spiral bound and mimeographed, not all leatherbound and gold leafed with a picture of the Mayflower on it or something. And she’s had the thing since 1986 and NEVER READ IT.
And apparently, the week that we were gone to Atlanta incensed her to no end. I think she pictured us throwing her photocopied sheets of ancestors around where there might be black people or some such.
So last night, I was sitting at home, checking my email at 8:30, having just worked 11 hours and then got home to find a GD repeat of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, albeit a good repeat. And I get this phone call.
‘Weetabix? I want the book now.’
‘Book?’
‘You’ve got my book. I want it back.’
Then I realized that it was Gen.
‘Oh, hi Gen, yeah, I thought Esteban was going to bring it to you this week, but I see it’s sitting here on the desk’ I can bring it to you on Friday when I have off.’
‘See here you’. I’ve been waiting for that book for a very long time and I’ve heard that line before.’
‘I understand, Gen, and I’m sorry.’
‘I want the book.’ Her voice was rising, getting higher into this hateful whine.
‘Well, I’m working 11 hour days right now and Esteban is going to work at 8:00 and coming home after 11 pm so I don’t think he can bring it to you tomorrow either.’ I don’t even know why but she was really ticking me off immediately. Probably her tone of voice, which was so scornful and nasty.
‘I don’t think you should be blaming Esteban for this, see here, because I didn’t borrow it to Esteban, I borrowed it to you. And you’ve had it almost a year. It doesn’t take a year to read.’
‘Yes, Gen, I understand that. And if you remember, I wasn’t reading the book, I was typing it into the computer, into our genealogy program.’
‘Yeah, well, I don’t know about that.’ As if I were making it up! ‘I just want my book back from you people.’
We’re ‘you people’ now.
‘I explained to you that I can bring it to you on Friday.’
‘Yeah, well, I’ve been hearing this ‘I’ll bring it over to you’ for a year now and I still don’t have my book!’
‘As I explained, we are both working very long days right now. I cannot leave work to drive across town to bring your book to you and I can’t get into your building past 8:00 pm. If Esteban is not able to bring it to you by Friday, I will bring it to you on my day off. Ok?’
‘Well’. I guess it will have to do.’
AAAAHHHHHHHH!!!
And have I mentioned that the woman is evil? Please don’t get me wrong. I adore senior citizens. I love them. I love their demeanor and their personalities. I love their stories. But she’s different. She’s not a normal grandmotherly type. And Esteban’s paternal side of the family is messed up. When they lived in Minneapolis, Esteban and I went to visit them and they brought us to the Maul of America (TM Kitchenlogic). We walked for 8 straight hours, with one half hour stop for lunch at a place called Gators, where they served alligator. Gen, Esteban and I all ate gator. That night, when Esteban and I, at ages 22 and 23 respectively, collapsed from exertion, she called us ‘A bunch of pansies’. Then Esteban and I got horrible intestinal cramps from the alligator. She didn’t. The seventy-plus year old woman was fine. I think that says something right there. Either she’s got a cast iron stomach or possibly she is a minion of Satan. I’m leaning toward the latter. I was a vegetarian during some of that time and every time we visited, she insisted that we eat at this restaurant that served exactly two items’ hamburgers and French fries. And her own grandson, Esteban’s cousin, was a vegetarian too! But she had a coupon, you see.
A different time, Esteban had taken her out for breakfast at an establishment frequented by senior citizens. They were walking out of the restaurant and were waiting for an elderly lady who was walking with a walker, with some difficulty. She was blocking the door and Gen was impatiently tapping her foot waiting. Finally, she clears her throat and taps the woman on the shoulder and shouts ‘See here you’ get along now!’ Esteban was appalled and said ‘Grandma!’ and Gen retorted, ‘Aw, I’m as old as she is and you don’t see me blocking the way!’
She’s evil.
So this morning, I put the book on Esteban’s coat and asked him to take it to her if he had time. He gave me a sideways look and growled. I explained that I would do it on Friday, but I’d rather not speak to her right then. So he did it. Because he’s a wonderful person and he knows how evil his grandmother is.
And she tried to give the book back to him.
AAAHHHHHHHH!
Apparently, she felt bad about going postal on me. Esteban wouldn’t take it back. Which was good, because otherwise I’d have to remove delicate parts of his anatomy.
She makes Mafia Grandma seem loving and warm. I think I’m calling in sick on Easter.
