Back in 1988, when I was two years old, Mom had me out at her grandmother’s farmhouse one day because her dad wanted to show off the garden he’d been working on. I was sitting down, and seconds later, I had wandered off.

Mom and Grandpa freaked out trying to find me. They knew I couldn’t have gotten to the street because the entire yard was fenced in, but I could easily have toddled off to the back of the property where a giant pond sits. My grandpa ran off in that direction to find me, while Mom ran inside to get her grandmother and her aunt to help look for me.

The house had a kind of unusual setup, so when Mom ran into the living room, she calmed down for a split second when she saw me in the reflection of a mirror, but then she panicked again when she saw what was happening.

It was nothing nefarious, but my great-grandmother had a pure white quilted blanket that she bought for about $100 back in the 1940s. Having survived the Great Depression, this was a MASSIVE luxury to her. She loved that blanket, and she would throw a fit at anyone who so much as got close enough to breathe on it.

I was sitting on that blanket, and my hands and face were covered in chocolate.

Mom: “[My Name]! No! What are you doing in here?!”

She ran in, only to see my great-grandmother handing me the chocolates. I would stick my finger into the chocolate, and if I didn’t like the filling, she’d set it aside and hand me another to test. If I liked it, I’d eat it, and then she’d give me another.

Mom: “Grandma? What are you doing? Why are you feeding [My Name] chocolate on your quilt?!”

Great-Grandma: “[Mom], I hope when you’re an old lady, no one tries to question you about how you want to spoil your great-grandkids.”

She passed away three years later, and I inherited that same blanket. I no longer eat chocolate on it, though.

I just lost my grandmother this week. While she was ninety-five years old, she had been doing pretty well until a sudden illness. She has been one of the most important people in my life. She has been the purest source of unconditional love, and it is thanks to her total acceptance, support, and love for me that I made it through some of the most challenging times in my life. Needless to say, losing her has been very difficult. I cried plenty the day she died, but for the last several days, it has been difficult even to eat or sleep, much less cry. I’ve felt in a sort of numb haze.

Today, I took the subway home. I walked into the station just as my train was pulling away. Frustrated and cursing my timing, I started to head into the station to await the train when I heard a busker playing a beautiful classical piece on his violin. Realizing I had nothing better to do until the next train came, I stayed and listened. He played beautifully, giving each note soul. When he finished the piece, I applauded.

Busker: “Thank you! Not many people have the opportunity to stay and listen.”

Me: “Thank you. It’s been… a really difficult week. You made it better.”

Busker: “Next week will be better than this one.”

I dropped some bills in his violin case and headed for the train. When I got to the train, I was thinking about his music and how much Grandma would have loved it. She was the daughter of a classical composer, and she adored classical music. The music felt like it had been a warm hug from her. Something eased in me, and I was finally able to cry. My grief feels tinged with warmth and love now, rather than just totally overwhelming.

Thank you, subway busker. Thank you, Grandma.

A middle-aged woman and an older woman are shopping and while I try not to stereotype what the average gamer looks like, these two are looking a little lost and bickering among themselves.

Me: “Can I help you, ladies?”

Middle-Aged Customer: “Yes, I want to buy one of these “Twitch” games for my son, but they all seem so violent.”

Older Customer: *To the middle-aged customer, her daughter.* “They’re Switch games, and like I told you, my grandson wants the Pokémon games!” *To me.* “Thank you, dear, but we’re fine here.”

Middle-Aged Customer: *To me.* “But they seem so violent! This game is all fighting, isn’t it?”

Me: “While the game does involve combat, it’s all child-appropriate and doesn’t involve anything overly violent. It’s mostly just cartoon-like animations.”

Middle-Aged Customer: “I’m… I’m just not sure.”

Older Customer: *To her daughter.* “Oh, for crying out loud! They’re harmless! Look, we discussed this. There are two games, Scarlet and Violet. You buy one, I buy the other: one happy grandchild!”

Middle-Aged Customer: “I’m just not comfortable with all the fighting. I think I will buy this game.”

She picks up a puzzle game, featuring sudoku, math problems, etc.

Older Customer: *To her daughter.* “Well if you want him to pretend to like your gift you can do that. I will be buying him what he actually wants!”

They continue their bickering but eventually make their purchases while I wisely step away. I explain the encounter to my manager, and we both get a good chuckle out of it.

A few days later, my manager and I have just opened the shop and a very angry-looking mother is standing outside.

Middle-Aged Customer: “You sold me a game that made me look stupid!”

Manager: *Wisely take over.* “Can you explain your issue, madam?”

Middle-Aged Customer: “I bought this “Twitch” game—” *Throws the puzzle collection on the counter.* “—for my son’s birthday and he hasn’t even used it! But you sold my mother those stupid Pokémon games and he hasn’t stopped playing them!”

Manager: “And what would you like us to do, madam?”

Middle-Aged Customer: “Make my son stop playing the Pokémon! It’s making me look like a bad mother!”

Manager: *Taking a moment to come to terms with the WTF-ness of this request.* “You would like me to stop your son, who isn’t here, from playing a game, that your mother purchased, that also isn’t here? This is the same game – that if my employee tells it correctly – your mother told you your son wanted for his birthday?”

Middle-Aged Customer: “Yes! Isn’t there anything you can do?”

Manager: “Madam, it sounds like your mother tried to use common sense on you, but it was not very effective.”

The mother grumbles loudly but struts out. My manager and I can’t wait to see Poké-granny again, though!

Related:
Switch Off Your Audacity, Lady

This is a story from the year 1994. My mother is the one to relay this story to me as I was but a wee tot at the time, so forgive me for any lack of details.

My family was watching a Hawks (basketball) game when the game reached halftime. The T-shirt-cannon-wielding man came out, to the delight of the crowd, and began dispensing the T-shirts that people came to these games to have a chance at getting.

The game was getting ready to start back up again, but it was delayed. When everyone turned their attention to the court, it turned out that a young boy no older than two had wandered onto the court.

Referee: “Whose child is this?”

At the same moment that the referee spoke, my mother caught one of the T-shirts and was jumped by the crowd, causing her to scream out…

At least, that’s what my dad thought. There was another thing that caused her to scream aside from the sprained ankle caused by the crowd, and it was the face on the screen.

That face was mine! I had somehow managed to find my way onto the basketball court without alerting anyone.

Thankfully, my uncle was able to get down to the court and collect me, and after some questioning, clarity to my recent adventure was given. My grandmother was the one watching me, but I was getting restless and trying to get down. My grandmother set me down, thinking that I was trying to get to my dad, but I, apparently, had other plans.

No, my mother still has not let my grandmother live this down.

Before anyone makes any speculation on the athletic proclivities of that little boy almost thirty years later, I am absolutely terrible at basketball as I am not fast, I can’t shoot to save my life, and attempts to defend usually end in hitting another player.

I work at a gift shop at a museum. A little boy with his grandma is deliberating between a toy lizard and a toy dragon.

Grandma: “Pick which one you want; you can only have one today.”

Boy: “But I want both!”

Grandma: “I know you do, sweetie. We can get another one next time. But just one for today, okay?”

Coworker: “They’re both really cool. But you have to make sure you pick one you really, really love. So, take a look at them and figure out which one you love the most.”

Grandma: “Which one do you love more? I think it might be the dragon.”

Boy: “I think it might be the dragon… and the lizard!”

Grandma: “No, just one.”

Boy: “I WANT TWO TOP PREDATORS!”

In the end, neither the boy nor his grandma would relent, so he ended up with zero top predators.