Shopping with short octogenarians

Zoe: Why is Yia Yia standing out in the parking lot?

Me: She’s reserving a parking space for Aunt VeVe.


Zoe: Where’s Aunt VeVe?

Me: She’s driving around the parking lot, trying to find a parking space.


Helena: Is she wondering where Yia Yia is?

Me: One can only hope.


Helena: I see Aunt VeVe! Here she comes!

*waves and jumps up and down*

Zoe: Aaaaaaaand there she goes.

*long pause*

Helena: Does Aunt VeVe even know what Yia Yia is doing?

Me: No one knows what Yia Yia is doing, honey.

Helena: Is that why everyone is honking at her and telling her to get out of the way?

Me: Yes.

*long pause*

Zoe: You kinda gotta admire Yia Yia. She won’t budge an inch.

Me: My entire childhood is on display in the Marshalls’ parking lot. And you guys wonder why I’m tense.


Helena: There’s Aunt VeVe again!

*waves and jumps up and down*

Zoe: Aaaaaaaand there she goes.


Zoe: I’ve never seen Yia Yia wave her arms like that before.


Zoe: It’s almost like she’s dancing.

Me: What are you doing?

Zoe: Updating Facebook. This is hysterical.

Helena: Can I take a picture too?

Me: No. I do not want photographic evidence of my lunatic family on Facebook.

Zoe: Too late.

Helena: Here she comes again! AUNT VEVE! AUNT VEVE!

*waves and jumps up and down*

Zoe: Aaaaaaand there she goes.

Helena: Wow, did you see that? Yia Yia almost ran.

*mouth agape*

Helena: Oh my gosh! What is that noise?

Me: If memory serves, that is either a hyena giving birth or Yia Yia yelling.

Helena: Who is she yelling at?

Me: Aunt VeVe. And probably God.

Helena: But Aunt VeVe can’t hear her. She can’t hear anyone.

Me: Yia Yia doesn’t care about details.


Zoe: Uh oh.  It’s almost noon.

Helena: Uh oh.

Me: Don’t worry. We have at least an hour and a half before Aunt VeVe starts panicking about rush hour traffic and we have to go home.


Zoe: Should we get Yia Yia a chair or something?

Me: She wouldn’t use it. That would be sign of weakness.

Helena: There’s Aunt VeVe again! How come she can’t see Yia Yia?

Me: Because she can’t see over the steering wheel.

Zoe: Aaaaaaaand there she goes.


Helena: Too bad we don’t have popcorn.



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15 thoughts on “Shopping with short octogenarians”

  1. Avatar

    So funny! Although, I first read the title as, “Shopping With Short Orangutans.” That may have been funnier.

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  3. Avatar

    At leastvyour kids have inherited your sense of humour and wry observational skills.

    Left a long comment on your last blog post but Internet gobbled it and did not have stamina to retype it! Trust me – it was a good one!

    So near but yet so far ……. Sigh ;(

  4. Avatar

    Are there tall octagenarians?!? All mama’s aunts were short. Daddy’s aunts, some of them, were tall. One, Aunt Cephia, wore “foundation garments” which showed off her ginormous jutting torpedo-like bosom. As a small child, I feared her, and the bosom. She adored my father and hated mom, brother, and me.

  5. Avatar

    oh my gosh that’s too funny! A coworker of mine was living with her 80 year old grandma and pretty much still takes care of her and stays with her a lot (she just moved into a retirement home). She’s had some pretty funny stories like that too.

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