Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Old Granny and her um, rocks in socks

So we chatted about my Granny and her beard. Well, the childhood trauma runs deeper than the beard. There was also Old Granny who was Granny's mom. Old Granny was also cute and little, however in my memory she was craaaannnkkkkyy. Maybe it was because she was super-duper old and I was super-duper young (6 or so) and annoying. (My mom says I've been um, an emotional girl since birth.)

I recall being present while Old Granny was changing her clothes one fine day in south Georgia. And Old Granny did not sport a brassiere. And let me tell you, those puppies were rocks in socks. To the waist at least. I thought surely this was some kind of crazy deformity that happened just to ittle Old Granny.

Oh no, my friends. That was no deformity. This was a natural process to most women as they age. Those puppies get tired. And why was I hung out to dry on this tad of information people? There should be some kind of warning at the very least. Lessen the blow when it happens, ya know? Perhaps the warning could be on new brassieres, just to get the word out.

Years ago, when Ru was about 5, I was changing my clothing with her present. She started laughing at me and said, "woo-ta woo-ta what happened here?" I said, "watch out, missy, it's genetic and will happen to you." She seemed very worried.

p.s. The above is, unfortunately, my only memory of Old Granny. Sad, eh? I don't want to be remembered only for my rocks in socks.

5 comments:

Tice said...

Sounds like a personal problem to me. I kid, of course. Mine would be the same...if I had any.

Peter Piper said...

There should be some sort of character or symbol on the keyboard for shaking one's head in awe. 'Cause if there was, missy, I'd be putting it here right. now.

april said...

i felt jipped in the same information. it took just one kid to wish my perkiness good-bye. i do remember warning my cousins and they said they already knew. i'm not sure how i missed the 411.

anyhoo, this just reminded me of a book i recently read called: "persepolis." it's a true memoir by a woman who grew up in iran during the islamic revolution and it's in a comic strip form. it is VERY fascinating. one of the last stories she shares is about watching her grandma change. her grandma was still perky and she asked her grandma how her breasts were so round. her grandma's response: "every morning and night, i soak them in ice water for ten minutes." too late to help our rocks in socks, but maybe this knowledge can save our daughters. just kidding - don't think i could actually tolerate soaking them in ice, but i did love learning how women in distant iran would care about perky breasts. it truly is a small world sometimes.

natalie said...

Swing looooowww sweet chariot...

Holy Moly!!! I have another awesome veri word:
frizbow.
Here's a made up sentence using this word...
Gurl, this humidity is makin' my hair all sorts of frizbow! Ya figadeal me?
oh yea.

Lori said...

Old Granny was a whisp of a thing, and, though I didn't have you visual experience I can imagine that her rocks in her socks must have been the only thing hanging off of her. She was cranky, but she introduced me to refrigerated cookie dough and that is some good stuff!