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[quote=Anonymous]Great-grandmother: 
When my Great-grandmother was out with my mom celebrating her 75th birthday, they ran into an acquaintance.  The acquaintance asked, “Oh?  How old are you today?” Great-grandma replied: “85!”
The friend congratulated her on her vigor and left.
My mom: “Grandma, you are only 75!  If you are going to lie, shouldn’t you say 65?”
Great-grandma: “Are you kidding me? I look like s—t for 65.  But I look d@mn good for 85!”

Grandmother: 
Referred to all bras as “over-the-shoulder boulder holder”
One of her favorite sayings (which was her way of saying “suck it up and deal”): “Well, tough t!ddy said the kitty when the milk went dry!“

She was very progressive.  When they moved house for my grandfather’s new job in 1965, his black coworker offered to help them move and brought along his little daughter, who was about the same age as my mom.  The two girls were out playing in the yard and grandma was unpacking boxes when a new neighbor came over to greet them.  Neighbor took it upon herself to advise grandmother “You really shouldn’t let your daughter play with that little N——- girl.  You never know what diseases they might carry.”  Grandmother ripped her a proverbial new one right there on the front stoop in front of God and Everyone and my mother was never allowed to play with that neighbor’s children ever again (though the coworker’s whole family became close friends).

As she was in hospice, dying from cancer, one uncle decided to try to preemptively claim a certain antique desk that had been her mother’s and which she had long promised to my mother (her only daughter).  It was particularly important to her because my grandmother was the youngest of her mother’s daughters and the only one to live far from home and this was the only piece of furniture she ever inherited from her childhood home.  Uncle came down to visit the hospice center over a weekend and brought his truck.  Grandmother hadn’t been coherent for days.  She was on a LOT of morphine and was slipping in and out of consciousness, talking to people who had been dead for decades, etc.  She had only days to live.  Uncle sidles up to Grandpa and says, “Well, I’m so sorry for your loss.  I have to be getting home so I’ll just swing by the house on my way back and pick up that dresser—“
Grandmother SITS UP on her hospital bed and YELLS “THE H3LL YOU WILL!” She proceeded to chew him out until he slunk back to his home in disgrace, dresser-less.  It was one of her last acts on this earth and I tend to think she would approve.

Mom: 
When he was young my brother went to speech therapy because he always mixed up his S-blends (St, Sl, Sp, Sh, etc.) At age 5 we got a puppy that was HIS dog. One day a woman from church was visiting and she was asking about the new puppy, as she wanted one for her kids.  My mom explained that they had gotten a lot out of the Puppy Kindergarten class at the local humane society.  “I learned a lot, although the dog only learned one trick.”
Brother: “Let me show her mom!”
He proceeded to draw himself up to his full 5yo height and in the “command voice” he learned at puppy K, he sternly said, “Rover, Sh!t!”
He immediately knew he had said a bad word and looked up with big eyes, prepared to be scolded.
“See?” Says my mom, “He doesn’t even do THAT when you tell him.”

My other favorite story has to do with a neighbor on our quiet cul-de-sac.  Our street always had a roving band of children wandering around and running back and forth to one another’s yards.  One neighbor lived near the open end of the street but always preferred to drive down to the end of the cul-de-sac, turn around and then park in front of her house rather than in the driveway.  The problem is that she would zoom down the street going 30mph.  Several of the moms on the street had tried to talk to her about it, but she always just replied that she had the right-of-way, and they’d say pedestrians have the right-of-way and everyone would be grumpy and nothing changed.  Finally my own mother went to address it with her. Neighbor gave her standard response “I have the right-of-way so—“
“Oh of course!  Of course you have the right-of-way!” Says my mother.  “But,” she added, “Wouldn’t it just f—up your whole day if you killed somebody’s kid?”
That was the first argument that actually seemed to register and after that the neighbor did a 3-point turn into her own driveway to turn around.[/quote]

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