The Grandparents Chronicles 3: Cup Capacity

Not since the Mad Hatter was a cup obsession so annoying. At least he confined his penchant for indulgence to tea cups and pots. With the grands, no kind of flatware are discriminated against; all are welcome at their table.

This is a couple who can boast never having to eat or drink from the same vessel twice. Not only do we have four or more different sets of dishes, six separate racks of tea cups, eight kinds of tall drinking tumblers and oddball glasses of all kinds,  we have a serving dish for every one of Betty Crocker's bowel movements.

And who the heck has chargers these days? Are we King Herod? My grandma has enough metal chargers to serve up the heads of the entire canon of holy saints. Every time I turned around I discovered more, even as the mind could not fathom. I literally opened the cabinet above the fridge thinking, "This has to be empty; there's no way they can reach it... Aaaahh! Cups! And more cups!"

Want to blow your mind? Forget tripping out on how many stars there are in the universe or sands on the sea shore, try to comprehend how many cups are in my grandma's cupboard. You'll die trying.

The Grandparents Chronicles 2: Charity Despair-ity

One of the first steps to cleaning out my hoarder grandparents' kitchen is to throw away the three hundred thousand mailers from charities asking them for money. My grandparents don't have one cent that isn't spoken for three times over already, so it makes me really grumpy to see them constantly set upon with pictures of children with clubbed feet and hair lips along with pleas to relieve their suffering, basically using their own sympathy to extort them.

The same applies to the myriad Catholic orders who do the same, only making a weapon of their faith. I want to tell them to please stop sending my grandparents requests for money they can't afford to do without. 

I consider the various marketing techniques employed, many very effective: free gifts, offers for prayers and masses to be said in your honor and cheap religious jewelry and paraphernalia. Bribery and guilt are especially effective. "Here are some Christmas cards, but you'll feel bad sending them without giving us your money first!" This one says don't open this candle; mail it back to us with your donation and we'll light it for you with prayers. Well, why did you go to the trouble of mailing it to us if you just wanted it mailed back to you? Oh yeah! Because having us hold the candle in our hands is a more effective marketing ploy than just telling us about the candle. I had hoped that a two thousand year old church would operate with more dignity than a paperback book club. Tell ya what: I'm just gonna burn it... in a satanic ritual. How you like that?

You know, Satan may have tempted Eve, talked Pilate into crucifying Jesus and caused a ruckus in heaven, but I'm pretty sure he wouldn't manipulate the widow's mite from my grandmother's feeble, impoverished hands. Even he has standards.

[Somewhere the devil is looking at these saintly envelope stuffers and shaking his head, "That's low, bro"].

The Grandparents Chronicles 1: Life in the Slow Lane

If you've never had children to look after in the supermarket, then you're not prepared to have grandparents. Give them motorized scooters and they can go anywhere, and not together, I might add. I swear these things have a hyperdrive switch on them somewhere, because just when I think she is slowly following as I go looking for him, poof! She's gone too! And as soon as they're out of sight, ENGAGE THE INVISIBILITY CLOAK! Today's lesson, if anything, is that I could never operate an air control tower.