Wednesday, January 05, 2005


My grandma and grandpa live five minutes from our house. They’re prone to dropping in at random hours of random days to borrow tools, bring us a cake, talk smack about other members of the family, return borrowed tools, bring Max and Stevie treats, request birthday lists and generally harass and annoy my parents.

Grandma and Grandpa dropped by this afternoon. My grandpa forewent a traditional greeting such as “hello!” or “hi!” or “we were on our way home from Sears and thought that we would check up on you” for “Do you know where Tonga is? The Kingdom of Tonga?”

No, Grandpa. Though I’ve heard of Tonga, I cannot recall where it is. I never did very well in the geography bee. Where is it?

“I don’t know.”

Oh. Here I was thinking that you were trying to prove that you were smarter than me again and you were actually asking me a legitimate question. Why do you ask?

“We want to go on a sailing vacation there.”

Oh. Of course. I should have known that the two of you, at 70 years of age, were planning on renting a sailboat and navigating the waters of an unknown location. Sounds safe! Will they be providing lifejackets?

Later in the unexpected visit, Grandma and I found Tonga in the atlas.

I wish that I could type out the laugh that emanated from Grandma when she saw the proximity of Tonga to Australia. This isn’t entirely accurate, but it sounded something like: Heeeeeee! Ahah – hahahaha! Eeee!

I think that she had been wishing for something more Great Lakes than South Pacific.

It was almost as amusing as the time that my grandpa told me that he doesn’t drink Gatorade because it has cocaine in it.


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