What better way to end a week of slaving away at school than a nice visit of a retarded OAP who has lost her mind, her sense of time as well as control over her sphincter? I was actually kind of looking forward to a nice and peaceful evening on the couch with an apple and some carrots (part of my new diet) when Mum announced Grandma was coming over. At least this time Grandma phoned us before coming over instead of pretending to be lost on her way to the supermarket and emptying out our fridge.
Grandma said she was coming over after dinner. Which to me is at about 8. When the doorbell rang a 6 while Mum was about to put the food on the table, I answered the door. I had expected to see an encyclopaedia salesman or some other kind of door-to-door salesperson; instead I was greeted by the smell of flowers in decay mixed with filled baby diapers. My instincts kicked in and I immediately slammed the door. I’m sorry Grandma. When I realised what I had done, I waited a few seconds till she rang again, opened the door and acted very surprised. ‘Grandma! How lovely to see me. How am I doing? Great and how are you?’ Grandma was not pleased.
She walked in and demanded food. Luckily Mum tends to cook for an entire orphanage, so there was plenty of food to go ‘round and Grandma was even allowed a second helping. I wasn’t. This diet thing is actually some sort of torture I inflict upon myself. Looking at all the food, but not being allowed to eat as much as I would like or want. Mum is being kind of supportive though. Maybe supportive is not the correct word. It’s more of an obsession to her. When I said I wanted to mind my weight and maybe lose a little, she immediately started saying things like,’ No more candy for you, only fruit and veggies in between meals, no more second servings and you’d better not be buying any sweets at school or on your way to school, because I will find it and I will eat it myself!’ I don’t know if it’s supportive or something far worse. Mum informed Grandma about my diet, but Grandma did not really respond. I think she was still mad at me.
Those of you out there who have been reading my blog know that Grandma is a little bit deranged. Last time she thought our house was the supermarket and she keeps calling me Ivor (her dead cat). Yesterday she kept looking for things that were not really lost. Her glasses: on her head; her gloves: on her hands; her glass of drink: on the table; her handbag: under her seat; her dentures: in het mouth; and so on. And not just once, no, she kept asking,
’ Has anyone seen my dentures?’
And Mum kept responding,’ They’re in your mouth, Mum.’
‘ Yes, I know, dear, I was just wondering whether you had seen them.’
I wish I hadn’t opened the door the second time she rang it.
At the moment we are preparing ourselves for a little trip tomorrow. We’re going to go to Cambridge. Apparently I have relatives living there. I believe an aunt lives there and we’re going to meet her and she is going to show us Cambridge. She’ll be cooking for us and afterwards we’ll head for home again. I have never been to Cambridge before so I am looking forward to that. I dunno about this relative yet. I know nothing about her and as she is related to Dad I don’t expect too much of it. I’ll let you know tomorrow evening. See me tomorrow.