Can someone remind me next time I drive five hours and spend four days with my mother and 80-year-old grandmother that I need to fill my water bottle with vodka instead of H20?
Shh. Don’t tell them I said that.
My grandma is Swedish, so we’ll call her Mor-mor [meaning mother’s mother] because that’s her name. She is quite a character, my Mor-mor, telling you exactly what’s on her mind and sparing no details [of her bowel movements or what she thinks of you]. She has a comment for everything and anything and this is why I love her.
I love her because during the four days that we were in Cape May, NJ she wasn’t planning on showering — she said she “doesn’t perspire.” [Don't worry I convinced her to shower - the last day.] In her defense, she didn’t smell.
I love her because she is probably fifty pounds over weight – yet she told me this weekend that I could spare to lose a few pounds of my size 6/8 waist.
I love her because while complaining that she has one prosthetic hip and two fake knees, no ovaries, no appendix, and only one kidney, I jokingly asked her what organs she had left, and she placed her hand on her chest and stated, “I have a heart” with a big granny beautiful grin.
I love her because sometimes she tries to teach me Swedish, and she doesn’t mind repeating herself five minutes later because I forgot what she said.
I love her because she said my hair is too blonde, but I simply tell her, “Mor-mor, I want to be Swedish and look like you.”
I love her because I’m 24-years-old, and she still tells me that I need a “pisk a rumpa” [or a spanking, at least that’s what it sounds like she is saying].
I love her because while she was paying for her Swedish book on her favorite Swedish artist, Carl Larson, at a boutique called “All Things Swede” she started talking in Swedish to the obvious American sales clerk.
And while I had to run to the apartment countless times to retrieve her sweater(s), sunglasses, water bottle, or Tylenol; walk at a snails pace to the beach that was less than a mile away; carry 3 suitcases, 1 air mattress, 2 coolers, 5 bags of groceries, and 2 garbage bags full of pillows and blankets up two flights of stairs all by myself — I deeply enjoyed my weekend with my Mor-mor and my mom.
Cape May, NJ 2009
Butteryfly Bush with my Mor-mor's favorite -- a Monarch Butterfly
2 Responses
September 18th, 2009 at 9:07 am
Your grandmother is so cute! It sounds like you guys had a nice time.
September 21st, 2009 at 9:21 pm
hahahaha oh mor-mor
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