[begin phone call]
“Hello?”
“Hi grandma. It’s your grandson, GeekMan. How are you today?”
“Who? WeakMan?”
“No. GeekMan.”
“Oh! GeekMan. I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you. I’m old.”
“Yes, grandma. I know you’re old. How are you feeling today?”
“What can I say? I’m alive, no thanks to your grandpa.”
“Ah. So, that’s good, I guess. How’s grandpa?”
“I hate him. He’s driving me crazy.”
“Well, at least he’s keeping busy.”
“GeekMan, when are we going to see you again? You never come to visit anymore.”
“I’ve been busy grandma, but I promise to come and visit you soon.”
“I have a steak for you, you know. It’s in the freezer.”
“Grandma, you don’t have to buy me anything. Just seeing you is enough.”
“I’ll make the steak any way you like. Just call me a few hours before you come over so I can defrost it.”
“Grandma, you really don’t have to…”
“I’ve been saving it for you for a long time now.”
“Well, that’s very nice but you really don’t… wait a minute. Grandma, when did you buy this steak?”
“It’s frozen, you know.”
“I know grandma, but how long has it been frozen?”
“Not long.”
“How long?”
“…”
“…”
“Do you want to talk to grandpa?”
“Not now, grandma.”
“He hates me, you know.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“He’s trying to kill me.”
“No, he isn’t.”
“Do you want to talk to him?”
“No! Grandma, how long have you had this steak in the freezer?”
“…”
“Grandma…”
“April.”
“Oh. Well why didn’t you say so? April’s not that bad…”
“April 1999.”
“WHAT?!?”
“Well, I’ve been saving it for a special occasion.”
“And you haven’t had a special occasion for three years?”
“Not with your grandpa still alive.”
“Grandma!”
“It’s true.”
“Stop that and tell me about the steak.”
“I forgot I had it.”
“You forgot you had a steak? In the freezer?”
“It was hidden under the frozen peas. I never put steak under the frozen peas. I think your grandpa was hiding it.”
“Why would he hide the steak?”
“To drive me insane.”
“Grandma…”
“He hates me, you know.”
“No he doesn’t.”
“Yes he does.”
“Grandma…”
“He’s trying to drive me crazy.”
“Sigh. Grandma, you know the steak’s not good anymore. Just throw it away, ok?”
“It’s a good steak! I’m not throwing away good meat just because it’s been frozen for a little while.”
“Grandma! It’s been frozen for three years! It’s almost old enough to be mistaken for Wooly Mammoth meat, ferpetesake.”
“I don’t care. I paid $4.95 for it at MeatSavers so I could cook it for my grandson, and that’s just what I’m going to do.”
“I won’t eat it.”
“You won’t eat your grandmothers cooking? What kind of grandson are you?”
“It will make me sick.”
“My cooking will NOT make you sick. I’m a good cook.”
“I know you’re a good cook! It’s the steak that’ll make me sick, not your cooking.”
“I can’t believe you think my cooking will make you sick.”
“Grandma, I never said that your cooking would make me sick.”
“Yes you did. I don’t think you appreciate what a great grandmother you have.”
“I do appreciate you! I love you!”
“If you really loved me you wouldn’t say such mean things.”
“But the steak is three years old! It’s just not safe to eat anymore!”
“Are you saying you don’t want my steak?”
“No. I’m saying that I don’t want that steak. I’ll eat anything else you want to make for me, but not that.”
“Anything?”
“Anything. Just promise me you’ll throw out that steak, ok?”
“Ok, GeekMan. You know I love to cook for you.”
“I know. And I love your cooking.”
“So, you think I’m a good cook?”
“Yes grandma, I think you’re a fabulous cook.”
“You’re a good boy.”
“Thank you, grandma.”
“Do you want to talk to grandpa now?”
“Sure.”
“…”
“Hello?”
“Hi grandpa. How are you?”
“I’m old.”
“I know you’re old.”
“Your grandma hates me.”
“No, she doesn’t.”
“Yes she does. She wants to kill me.”
“Sigh. Grandpa…”
“You hate me, too.”
“I don’t hate you.”
“You don’t visit.”
“I promise to visit soon, ok?”
“Ok. Soon is good because soon I’ll be dead.”
“Grandpa…”
“So, you’ll come and visit and we’ll be happy. Good.”
“I promise.”
“Ok. Then we’ll talk when I see you.”
“Sure.”
“One more thing. If your grandmother makes steak, don’t eat it. She’s trying to kill me.”
[end phone call]
Another typical day at GM’s grandparents’ house.
Those are Jewish grandparents if ever there were Jewish grandparents. Even if they are WASPS.
My grandmother used to live upstairs from me. She made meatballs all the time and would send down a tupperware container full of them for me to put in the freezer for “a rainy day.”
One day grandma gave me a container with four meatballs. The next day she was rushed to the hospital. She died a month later.
The meatballs are still in my freeze. Since October, 1998. I’m afraid if I get rid of them grandma will haunt me worse than she does already.
Reminds me of my grandparents, except only my grandma is crazy…. so it isn’t as fun.
My grandmother eats cream cheese from 1998 and somehow never gets sick. It’s very odd.