My grandma is pretty freakin' awesome.

*I wrote this post for a blog I started on myspace (yes myspace still exists and yes it still sucks) about two years ago. My mam is one of the most amazing women I know...*

My grandma, or "Mam" as we like to call her, is a kickass lady. She was a janitor at my high school for a bunch of years, and she’s the kind of woman that all of the kids were obsessed with. But, as she’s getting on in years as grandmothers tend to do, it is becoming more difficult to know what is going to pop out of her mouth.

This morning, my mom, sister, brother, and I picked up my grandma for church and dinner at my aunt’s house. As soon as we saw her, she plopped down into the front seat, a plate of food and several Easter baskets in her lap, and proclaimed "I HAVE AN EASTER STORY!" We all listened up, wondering if it was going to be an old favorite or something new that she had drummed up. She promptly launched into the story, "It’s an Easter story about a duck...it’s a funny story about a duck! When your Uncle Chewy was little, he used to crawl into the sewer drains, you see. And he would sit there and wait for awhile, and when he would hear somebody comin’, he would lift the lid off just a little bit and let out a ’QUACK!’ Now let me tell you, he sounded just like a duck. JUST LIKE  a duck...I don’t know how he did it. So the people would be walking down the street and your Uncle Chewy would just sit there, going ’QUACK, QUACK, QUACK!’ and nobody ever knew it was him."

Now, as far as I can remember, this was a new story for my grandma. It’s been awhile since we’ve heard completely new stuff from her, so I was excited to see what she would whip out for the rest of the day.

Mam certainly didn’t disappoint us. She brought out all of my old favorites, which include saying that every morsel of food she tastes is "luscious" and doing her famous "Pistol Packin’ Mama" routine. Now, I don’t know if "Pistol Packin’ Mama" is a staple among other families, but it is a tradition that is cherished in ours. My mam whips out her dentures, throws them on her napkin, and sings "Pistol Packing Mama" while miming an acoustic guitar. When we were younger, this was met with shrill, horrified shrieks from me (and later on my little brother and sister) because Mam didn’t look like Mam without her teeth in. Now, I’ve gotten over it, but it still is a little jarring to see my grandma sans her false teeth.

But Mam had one more original for us today, and it was a goody. My cousin’s baby, an adorable 2-year old named Jack, had joined us for the festivities. My grandma (his great grandma---holy geez I am starting to feel old) decided she was going to find an inventive way to get his attention, since nearly every person in the room was clamoring for it. My grandma stared at Jack from across the room, and said (in a voice that sounded like a mixture of a hobbit and a troll-woman) "GIMME THAT FINGER!!"

My sister, brother and I were all sitting together on the sofa, and we all just sort of looked at each other with a ’what the hell is going on i’ve never seen this before is mam all right’ glance. But Jack didn’t seem to think there was anything strange about this statement at all and went barreling over to my grandma. She quickly swooped him up and plopped him in her lap, yelping again, "GIMME THAT FINGER!!" She then proceeded to pretend to nibble on his fingers, saying, "That’s my finger...(switching to his other hand) no that’s my finger...no that one...no...GIMME THAT FINGER!!" Jack squealed in absolute delight, and was the happiest I saw him all day.

The moral of the story? You can take all the "Mommy and Me" classes you want, force your child to listen to "Baby Einstein," play Mozart for your child while he or she is still in the womb, and set up "play dates" with well behaved children all you want, but sometimes, all your kid wants to do is play "GIMME THAT FINGER!!"

Mam is cool.