Unfortunately, all the visits from the grandparents seem to be lumped toward the end of the year. The engine’s hardly cooled down on their mobile home after they left on, like, the Tuesday after Thanksgiving, and now they’re here three days early, if it’s not a bother. It’s like the line “It’s not a bad tree, it just needed a little love!” activates their homing beacon.
This Christmas, the solution for your seasonal grandparent woes: yards and yards of packing tape.
Just make sure you anchor them securely, otherwise Grandma’s going to list off to the right and lose her count on her stitches, and you’ll get a mutant three-sleeved jumper or something. Which, who knows, may have actually been intentional. It’s the holidays, bad time for negativity.
I wonder when Grandpa started wearing bling? Maybe it’s time to stop. Granted, everyone knows he’s either into country-western dancing or has a boot fetish, and if Grandma’s okay with the latter, well, maybe there’s a reason they’ve been together 40 years. But there’s something to be said for subtlety.
#1 reason grandfathers tend to walk all hunched over: 15-pound boot bling. You read it on the internet.
Psst. Grandma. GRANDMA. You’ve got something on…oh, never mind.
Apparently both of them are into extreme accessorizing now. Really, someone should have words. She’s going to get that awkward “three inch earlobe” problem.
Wait. Those are glued on. Grandma, you’re…you’re weird.
All things considered, they’re still a perfect couple, after all these years. Grandma knits, grandpa reads his doily. They both like their quiet time. They both accessorize with price tags. They both spent a few weeks on the rack for printing criticisms of the crown without a license. And they’re both into alternative relationships.
Which is why Grandma takes her paraplegic fisherman with her every Christmas. It just adds to the yuletide awkward.
Goodwill on Parmer near I35, Austin