I am the worst grand-son on the planet. This is mostly because I sort of hate my grand-parents. They never really did anything to me, but they never really did anything for me either. I hear about my friends whose grandparents bought them trips to Europe when they graduated from high school, or gave them $5000 dollars for their Bat Mitzvah, whereas my grand-parents constantly ask me what grade I'm in, and whenever they manage to give me 50 bucks (which is always in coin-form rolled up in a pathetic "we saved this up from all of our change all year kind of way" that always makes me angry because honestly go get a fucking job and get some paper cash together. Isn't Wal-Mart always hiring you people) I practically have to give my Grand-Father a hand-job. Granted this comes back to the Jesus Parable about the rich man giving a fortune to the church, and the poor man giving one coin when he only had two. I have friends with rich grandparents and mine are poor, so their gift while smaller is from the heart, so should be more appreciated. Fine whatever, thanks for the spare change, I'm sure the hooker I solicit later with a few rolls of quarters will love it all the same. My real gripe with my grand-parents, the thing that makes me despise them above all other things is my nagging suspicion that beneath all of the smiles and vacant expressions, they might not be now, nor have they ever been good people. It's like a 90 year-old Hitler. I am sure that he might give me scraps of news-papers now that he thinks I might like, and might even give me a candy from time to time, but that doesn't make him a decent fellow, and definitely not someone I should get up for at 7 in the morning on a Sunday to go see. I figure my grandparents aren't good people, because frankly, I see the job they did on my parents.
So in a passive aggressive attempt to not see my grand-parents, I make these crazy statements, to make my parents so wary of bringing me anywhere near the elderly that my Sundays are free to do what god intended, do drugs and have the freaky kind of sex where a platypus might come out of the mix. Se now that last sentence is nothing that I have ever said to my parents, but you get the idea of why they never let me near old people, small children or open flames. Here are a few others.
Why the fuck do I need to come here? It's not like she even knows who I am. Why don't we just lie to her, tell her that we came last week, and put the phone on the table while she cries for 20 minutes about how lonely she is.
No Grandma, it's not cold in here, it's August. You're probably just dying inside.
No Grandpa I don't want to hear the story about how you had to wear cardboard in your shoes to cover the holes during the great depression. Frankly any story about the Great depression is well...depressing. I look at what you have become and get an idea about how shitty your life has been.
Mom, why do you feed me this bullshit about how bad drugs are when Grandma and Grandpa are so fucking spaced on their "medicine" that Grandpa just pissed himself and Grand-Ma is eating a potholder?
Dad, why did you always tell me how important it is to always tell the truth, when grand-ma is 81 and still has red hair, and grand-pa pretended to be a gay Canadian to avoid WW2? What you mean he wasn't pretending anything? Why does he dress like that then.
And my personal favorite
I know why you're so tired Pappy. I believe that god judges us for everything we do in life, and if I was you I would be so scared of the fire in hell that I wouldn't be able to sleep very well either. Oh well, at least I'm a good person, Good Night!
20:1 says I am not going to be in anybodies will. I'd take that bet, cash.
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