Grammie (One of Many Posts to Come)
My grandmother is crazier than I am. She is so wholly focused on having a great grandchild that we recently had the following exchange. No, I am not kidding. (Oh, when you hear her voice in your head, she's from the coast of Maine. She has this awesome downeast sound that makes everything that much funnier.)
"Hi Grammie, it's Jenny. How are you?"
"Ohhh, Jennifuh! I'm fine. How's the dating life going?" she asked. Of course. That's the first thing she always asks. I think she has the cousin of the Doomsday Clock sitting in her living room, and every time I start dating she moves the hands closer to midnight. In this case, midnight signifies pregnancy rather than nuclear annihilation. Sometimes I wonder which would be worse for me.
"Oh, not so great. I got dumped. But that's all right. I have a date with some other guy later this week." For some reason, I need her approval that I'm trying hard enough to get those great grandbabies for her.
"I'd had such hopes for that one," she sighed. "You'd be such a wonderful mother."
"Yeah... thanks. It's okay though. If I'm still single at 35, I'll make sure I do that sperm bank thing you suggested." Again, I wanted to reassure her that while I'm only 30 now, I'm planning for the future, and there IS a great-grandbaby cut-off date.
"Honey, why do you even NEED a father for the baby? When you know you're ovulatin', just go to a bar, and find a guy you think would make a good donor. Bring him home, and have sex with him," she helpfully suggested. The sip of diet root beer that I'd just taken nearly shot out of my nose. Luckily, I've had plenty of practice at refraining from soda-spewing since I talk with her so often.
"Hehehe, that's hilarious, Gram. You're so funny," I laughed. I was clearly dismissing this dreadful idea.
"Whaaaat?" she asked innocently. "I think it's a fine idea! You make plenty of money to support a baby. If you just picked a guy up you wouldn't have to deal with a man in your life for the longterm, you'd get your kid, and you could nail him for child suppor-"
"GRAMMIE!" I gasped, cutting her off. "That's terrible! What would your pastor say?!"
"He'd say that if you don't get crackin' I'm gunna be dead before I have a great-grandchild."
She. Is so. Funny. Needless to say, her advice is questionable at best. But she's always good for a laugh.