Monday, March 12, 2007

The spice of life

Love is in the air. It’s possible I might be getting a new grandpa for Easter. My grandmother’s got her eye on a wheel-chair bound resident down the hall. In fact, she’s got more than an eye on him. Apparently, she groped the gentleman during a sing-along of favorite church hymns.

Nearer my God to thee, indeed.

Sexual harassment or senior moment? Both families pledged to keep the elderly Juliet away from the aged Romeo, but I didn’t have the courage to ask her about it Sunday when I picked her up for lunch. The image of my granny playing fast and loose with forbidden fruit was too much for me. Always elegant, proper, and reticent, it was impossible to imagine her doing such a thing. She probably wouldn’t even remember doing it, to be honest.

Grandma wanted to go out for a hamburger, but her favorite place had closed down. We ended up at a Mexican food restaurant, eating fajitas and soft tacos. She put away an entire bowl of salsa and queso, smacking her lips with satisfaction. “I love that spicy food!”

That's one thing we've got in common.

Spring is also in the air, and I spent Saturday afternoon in the yard, preparing my flower beds, pulling weeds, and watering. “You wasted all that water,” Sport said when he saw it was raining the next morning. True enough. I was also sore from all that squatting. I still need to spend many more hours out there, but I’m not sure how I’ll fit it in – Sport’s got soccer games and piano contests every Saturday until the end of May, and LegoGuy has his church youth activities and orchestra competitions. I’m getting too old for this. I’d love to hire someone to help me – preferably a young latino man who looks a lot like Antonio Banderas.

With Grandma as my role model, I think I'm going to refuse to let the aging process kill my spirit. I’ll refuse to wear a hat in the sun, embrace my gray hair, and look at each wrinkle as a badge of honor. I’ll squat in the mud, eat spicy foods, and occasionally grope my gardening assistant.

"Mmmm, spicy!"

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

I love a senior citizen who sets a good example for us middle aged losers to follow. It's a shame that we have to wait for old age before we can do a little groping and not worry that the gropee will get all twisted out of shape over it. It's gotten so that the only women I can even call "darlin'," in that Texas Hill Country way, are my nieces and waitresses. And with the waitress, only if she calls me "Honey" or "Sugar" first. (Fortunately, most of them do.)

Le Bohemian Corsair said...

Gross, are you sure your grandma's name isn't Jill. I hear that means "Dirty old whore who dances on tables." I'd be afraid if i were you.

pastgrace said...

Oh my! It's nice to know that old doesn't equate coldness. Did anyone ask the old guy how he felt about the situation. Maybe he wanted the attention.

I can see it now a whole new take on the Romeo and Juliet story! Bet you could write it.

craftyminx said...

oh ye of little faith...