Rude Is As Rude Does

(My grandparents make plans sometime in February to come and visit me the first week of October. My grandmother calls in June.)

Grandmother: “I need to speak with you about something really important, [My Name].”

Me: “All right. What is it?”

Grandmother: “Well, do you know [Old Friend of Hers]?”

Me: “Yes, what about her?”

Grandmother: “Well… She called and said she wanted to visit us. Of course I said yes, so she suggested a date.”

Me: “Okay…”

Grandmother: “She suggested coming in the first week of October.”

Me: “Okay…”

Grandmother: “And it would have been rude if I’d told her she couldn’t come! I had to accept the date. You don’t mind, right?”

Me: *knowing I have no choice* “Of course not. Would you like to reschedule?”

Grandmother: “Yes! We’ll come the second week of October. I’m so glad you understand.”

Me: “Sure…”

(We ended the call. I wasn’t really upset that the date changed, but more about her idea of what’s rude. She’s always throwing a temper tantrum when she thinks I’m being rude, so I guess she thinks everyone is just like her.)