The Atwaters, Aubrey and Dolores, my Grammy |
My Grammy had a trademark question we knew we would hear whenever we visited. I'm sure she just wanted to be a good hostess, and offer us food and drink. We were well-fed youngsters, though, and usually, there just wasn't anything we needed. The conversation was completely predictable; Grammy's questions and our answers.
Every. Single. Time.
"Can I get you a drink, dear?"
"No, thank you."
"I have milk, water, juice..."
"No, thanks."
"Would you like anything to eat?"
"No, thank you."
"Can I offer you a piece of cake or a cookie?"
"No, thank you."
"Are you sure you don't want anything?"
"Yes, absolutely. I don't want anything."
Not one to give up easily, and being fiercely certain that potassium solves a myriad of problems, Grammy had one final question; the one we were waiting for; the one that let us know she would finally abandon her queries, and it was this:
"Can I get you a banana, dear?"
At this point, I would want to scream, but I tried to maintain my manners. "No, thank you, Grammy. Seriously, I'm fine."
"Do you want a banana, dear?" became a family joke, repeated at predictable and random moments. When anyone offered anyone anything to eat, and the intended recipient refused the offer, we could count on hearing the age-old question.
"Do you want a banana, dear?"
Uh-oh. Guess what I realized this weekend. I am my Grammy. As much as I hate to admit it, I ask my own kids over and over if I can get them anything. They nearly always say no. I offer food and drink when they come to visit. I check to see if there is anything I can do for them. I ask if they are comfortable.
Ugh, history is repeating itself. The only difference between Grammy and me is I don't end my questions with "dear." I kind of have an aversion to that word, for some reason.
My children are adults. They have all lived on their own. They are perfectly capable of meeting all of their needs without older adult supervision.
Oh, my word. I really am my Grammy.
Photo Credit: Chuck Bennorth |
I am so sorry, you guys. I never meant to pester, or hound, or beat the proverbial dead horse with my questions. Without realizing it, I've probably been driving you all a little crazy.
On my honor; I'm not going to do it any more. I quit. Well, I will do my darnedest. Old habits die hard. Let's see if this old dog can learn one more new trick.
From now on, you're on your own. Feed your own selves. Get your own snacks. Put on a jacket or find a blanket if you're cold. If you need something, and you don't know where it is, speak up.
"Seek, and ye shall find. Ask, and it shall be given."
And if you want a banana, go get it yourself.
Every woman in my family wants to feed people as soon as they get in the house. When my father passed away, my mom fed the state troopers cookies and coffee while they waited for the coroner to get to the house.
ReplyDeleteBut my best friend and I have a line similar to your banana question. Once, my mom left a list of our food and beverage options when she knew we would be getting to the house before she did. After a list of about 10 items, she signed it "Love Mom." Then underneath, she scrawled, "Soup Too!" Since then, we have often shouted "Soup too!" whenever she tries to feed us.
I know it's a mom thing, but I don't want to drive my kids any crazier than I already do. LOL.
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