Grandma Lois

Grandma Lois

From Chicken Soup for the Grandparent's Soul

Grandma Lois

We’re only young once, but with humor, we can be immature forever.

Art Gliver

A few years ago my husband and I were riding in the car with our friends Denny and Laurie Montgomery and Grandma Lois, Denny’s mother. Having known the family for years, we were always braced for whatever Lois would say. She was about seventy-five at that time . . . somewhat hard of hearing, but alert and spunky as anything. Driving through an older part of North Seattle, we passed some weathered brick buildings that had advertisements and pictures painted on the sides of them. Coming up on our right was an old-fashioned eye clinic or something . . . an optometrist’s office, probably. On the side of the building was a graphic painting of a gigantic eye with very special details—the pupil, iris, eyelashes. . . .

Lois barked out from the back seat: “DENNY, WHAT IS THAT!?”

“On that building, you mean? It’s a picture of an eye, I think, Mom.”

“WHAT is it? A picture of what?”

“It’s an EYE, Mom . . . a picture of an eye.”

This irritated Lois for some reason . . . a giant picture of an eye evidently didn’t sit right with her. She seemed to find it ridiculous and annoying.

“Well! (tsk!) An EYE?! Why on Earth would anybody paint an EYE like that on a building!?” She rolled her eyes and abruptly crossed her arms.

Denny loved Lois dearly, and he never seemed to tire of her cynical nature. He was patient no matter what was bothering her, and something usually was.

“Well, the guy’s probably an eye doctor, Mom, and that’s his advertisement. It’s probably an optometrist’s office, or something. Maybe he’s an optician.”

“Well for heaven’s sake!” Lois sniffed, thoroughly disgusted. “Humph!” She was shaking her head. “Aren’t ya’ just glad he wasn’t a gynecologist!!!?”

Patricia S. Mays

“I’m all dressed for our drive to Grandma’s house.”

Reprinted by permission of Earl W. Engleman.

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