Adult-Os! Now With A Special Surprise Inside!

, , , | Related | August 18, 2020

My younger sister is fifteen and I’m twenty when this story takes place. Due to certain circumstances, we’re both living with our grandma — sixty-three — and her mother — eighty-four. My great-grandma has always been a bit high strung, but usually, she lets us handle ourselves. Usually.

My sister has gone out to a holiday party with a local LGBT youth group and it’s getting on in the evening. She’s supposed to call us when she’s ready and I’ll drive to pick her up with my great-grandma in the car. I’ve had my license for three years and she generally considers me a good driver, which is what makes part of this so baffling.

It’s about seven-thirty at night when the worrying starts.

Great-Grandmother: “Do you think she’s okay? It’s getting awful late.”

Me: “It’s not anywhere near late enough to end a party.”

Great-Grandmother: “I’m just worried she’s out walking the streets with all those kids. [Street] has some crime, you know.”

Me: “Grandma, it’s a supervised party. They won’t just let the kids wander around no matter how late it gets.”

Great-Grandmother: “I just worry she’s out and about in the cold. You know she only brought a thin jacket? I worry about her in the cold.”

Me: “Grandma, [Sister] hates the cold. She’s not going to be out and about in it if she doesn’t have to, and she’s old enough to make her own decisions regarding jackets.”

Great-Grandmother: “It’s just awful late.”

Variations on these concerns repeat periodically for the next two and a half hours.

Me: “Grandma! If you don’t quit fussin’, I’m gonna send you to bed! She’ll call us when she’s ready and she can handle herself.”

Great-Grandmother: “Okay, okay!”

Sure enough, my sister calls soon after and we’re on our way. And then, further worrying starts.

Great-Grandmother: “Be careful of those parked cars.”

Great-Grandmother: “Look both ways here; it’s a bit of a blind turn.”

Great-Grandmother: “You can turn now.”

Finally, there’s the comment that breaks me. My great grandmother sees a cop car parked along the side of the road. 

Great-Grandmother: “Remember to stop at this red light!”

Me: “Grandma! I did not, in fact, get my license out of a cereal box!”

She only fretted one more time that journey, about backing out in an empty parking lot, and she apologized to me the next morning!

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