Zoe: Why is Yia Yia standing out in the parking lot?
Me: She’s reserving a parking space for Aunt VeVe.
*pause*
Zoe: Where’s Aunt VeVe?
Me: She’s driving around the parking lot, trying to find a parking space.
*pause*
Helena: Is she wondering where Yia Yia is?
Me: One can only hope.
*pause*
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.
*pause*
Helena: There’s Aunt VeVe again!
*waves and jumps up and down*
Zoe: Aaaaaaaand there she goes.
*pause*
Zoe: I’ve never seen Yia Yia wave her arms like that before.
*pause*
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.
*pause*
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.
*pause*
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.
*pause*
Helena: Too bad we don’t have popcorn.
.
.
15 thoughts on “Shopping with short octogenarians”
Bah ha ha, Yia Yia!
Oh my god. That is too funny to be real. Your girls have amazing repartie!! (Not that I wonder where they got that skill.)
So funny! Although, I first read the title as, “Shopping With Short Orangutans.” That may have been funnier.
Dammit, why didn’t you call me? I could’ve been there in like five minutes!
well at least its not just my family. hysterical as always
That’s pretty damned funny!!!!!
OMG!! too funny!!
This is too funny!
OMG I have missed reading your blog! So glad you’re still here, blogging just as funny as ever!!!!!! I almost peed reading this today.
This? Hysterical. Gee, I could post that comment on every one of your blog posts and it would be sincere 😀
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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 ;(
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.
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.
Too funny!