Grandma: The After Show

I come home Saturday to the following message on my answering machine:

"It's your grandmother! (said in approximately the same tone as "it's your parole officer.") I haven't heard from you in a while and wanted to make sure you were OK. And I am bored, bored, bored, bored, bored. I tried calling everyone and no one is home. Call me back."

I did not call her back. Because I was working and crabby and was positive I would have tried to kill her with my mind through the phone. By Sunday, I had completely forgotten that she had called. About 9:00 pm, my phone rings and my TV (because, yes, my TV displays my caller id and it is AWESOME) tells me it is my grandmother. Shit. I answer the phone.

Erratic: "Hey! Sorry I didn't..."

Grandma: "Are you OK? Why aren't you returning my calls?"

Erratic: "As I was saying, sorry I didn't call you back. I was working all weekend."

Grandma: "How many hours did you work?"

Erratic: "About 20 this weekend, about 50 last week."

Grandma: "That's too many."

Erratic: ...

Grandma: "What did you have for dinner?"

Erratic: "Pizza. I didn't feel like cooking."

Grandma: "That isn't healthy. Did you have a salad?"

Erratic: "No, but I had garlic bread."

Grandma: "Erratic (she actually used my first AND middle name here) you are going to get sick and end up back in the hospital if you don't take care of yourself."

Erratic: "Pizza will not hurt my back. Promise."

Grandma: "Well, what if it does?"

Erratic: "You win. No more pizza."

Grandma: "Do you like tomato juice?"

We talked for about 10 minutes about why I should drink tomato juice. I will spare you the details. I get into work Monday morning and have an email from my mother that just says:

"Call your grandmother. She thinks you are mad at her."

I responded that I had already talked to her and was, in fact, not mad at her. I had been busy and forgot to call her back. My mother responds:

"Good. That woman is a loony tune. I swear I was adopted."

I could not agree more, mom.