The other day I discovered something. First world problems. First world problems are the trivial things we deal with daily – and then decide to share our horrible misfortune with the rest of the world to gather sympathy, empathy and understanding from a whole lot of people we don’t know on Facebook or Twitter.
Our garbage collection service has issued everyone some new special bins. One is for trash, the other for recycling. I made an attempt to pull into the driveway last night but could not because our new bins were placed at the end of the driveway. 1stWP#1. I skidded past the entrance on the ice packed street and then had to maneuver to the other side of the street to park. 1stWP#2.
I placed the new refrigerator sized containers on the porch and then discovered that they have changed the collection schedule. 1stWP#3. 2 more bins were placed at the end of the driveway today. It looked as if our entire street had a double delivery. There were bins everywhere. Garbage day will be a beautiful thing, I’m sure. 1stWP#4.
One of my daughters called to tell me a story about something. In her story, she introduced a character and then felt the need to give me the back story on the individual instead of simply getting to the fucking point. She began with “let me paint a little picture for you” and then proceeded to just tell me about the person. There was no picture, just facts. I was kind of disappointed. I was more disappointed that a 2 or 3 minute story took 11 or 13 minutes. 1stWP#5.
My life is not a complete mess.
In other news, my Grandmother passed away yesterday. She (if I have this right, I’m not sure because I’m seeing different info on FB) would have been 99 in March. She was born in 1915. So, she was 98 when she passed. She grew up in the Chicago area. Her first husband, my Grandfather, died in 1978. Later, she re-married and eventually John passed away.
We were having some kind of gathering at my house in my previous life… perhaps a birthday party for one of my kids. My Grandmother (we called her Grammie) and John came for the gathering. At some point in the middle of kids running around and people tripping about, she decided to tell a joke. Let me back up a bit and mention that my Grandparents, even though they were born in the USA were offspring of Czech immigrants. They grew up speaking Czech. There were times when my brother and I would be visiting and my grandparents would have the neighbors over for a dinner party. As kids, we were usually in the other room watching TV or something after dinner, but the adults would break out the cards and play on the dining room table. I did not understand any of what they were saying but I could tell that some wicked-ass jokes were being told. You’d hear one person talking… and then the dining room would break out into laughter.
Back to her joke. You’ve probably heard this before but imagine it coming from your shriveled up little white haired Grandmother who you thought would never say such a thing:
A young woman was about to be married. She was concerned that the passion that she was now feeling may fade over time, so she decided to consult her Grandmother who had been married for many many years. The Grandmother told the girl that in the beginning, they could not keep their hands off of each other. They were having sex all of the time… everywhere. After a few years, things tapered off and it was less and less but they still had some good and creative sessions. Things were good.
The girl was concerned because it seemed as if the sex drive was diminished and asked if they still had sex at this time in their lives. “Certainly” said the Grandmother, “We have oral sex in the hallway just about every day.” The girl was impressed.
“Yep” the Grandmother continued, “I wake up and he wakes up and as we pass each other in the hallway when we leave our rooms we both say “fuck you.”
This is where she would have dropped the Mic on the floor and left the room. Grammie, out.