Bahaha. My Gramma is nuts in the fun, adorable old lady way.
Like today, she had to tell everyone who would listen that she helped at their fish fry on Friday with the "COLORED" church who meets after their service. And how she smelled like fish for 2 days afterward. I heard this same story about 6 different times. The first time I gave her the habitual, "Gramma, you can't say colored, this isn't 1926" speech, but after that I just gave up because she can't hear me anyways.
Then she also has to tell everyone [I use this term lightly, as this includes the 18 people who still come to this church, most of whom have known me since I was a fetus, and some who have known my mother since she was a fetus] who I am and that I stole her car to go to college, so I take her to church when I come home. And that I'm in my second year of college and that I want to be a counselor [which isn't exactly true, but I let her talk and I smile and nod at the person].
ALSO it was hysterical because they have this new pastor who is ridiculously hard to understand because he talks like an auctioneer and doesn't control his volume at all. So his prayer today was literally "BlessusOHGODforthisdayandeveryoneherewehavesomerequeststhatWEWOULDLOVE
totellyouaboutPLEASEOHGODbewiththefamilyofBOBwhoisinthehospitalandweallknow
WHATITSLIKEtobeillandpleasebewithhisfamilyasWELLBECAUSEtheyarehavingtodealwiththis"
It was insane. And of course all of these old people are not hearing a word he is saying, and this old guy a few pews behind us is literally screaming at his wife going CAN YOU HEAR WHAT HES SAYING?!?!! and his wife would go SOMETHING ABOUT BOB'S WIFE, I THINK HE SAID SHES SICK. It was great.
[Edited because it was raping your screen, and God forbid people have to side scroll
-coughMOcough-]
