My Grandparents were in town this weekend, they drove in to see the Christmas Concert, they are 85 and 84 respectively. Having my grandparents (all four of them) in my life for so long has been one of my great pleasures in life. Grandad (the one who likes to give telemarketers a hard time) and my Gramma and Grampa White live in Oklahoma.
Gramma and Grampa White, like Grandad, have a great sense of humor, they were hippies for haloween last year and Grampa can rarely take a normal photo – so now you know where I inherited “that gene.”
I lived with the Whites during the five years I was earning my undergraduate degree from The University of Tulsa – not in English or any form of writing – and I have so many funny stories and memories from that time.
I had only been living with them a month or so, when one evening at dinner, I noticed Grampa had been holding his pants together at the belt button every time he stood up, or when walking around the kitchen pre-dinner. He continued to hold his pants as we all moved to the clubroom to watch a movie together. After the movie, Gramma asked him to turn the television off. Grampa, again holding his pants at the waist, walked to the center of the room – halfway between his chair and the TV and stopped – he released his grip on his pant waist and his pants fell to the floor. My Grandfather stood there in his whity-tighties, pants around his ankles, looking around like a confused old man who couldn’t remember what he was doing. Gramma and I were laughing hysterically.
“Jim pull your pants up,” Gramma said between laughing. Grampa pulled his pants back up and went over to turn the TV off. Gramma asked, “what on earth was that for?” Grampa said, “I ripped my pants while I was working outside in the yard.” Now he was smiling and we all enjoyed that joke for a few more minutes.
That’s a memory I wont soon forget.
Happy Thursday Folks, drive carefully and smile at someone new today