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Grandma: They looked like hairy vaginas. *insert photo* Even grandpa said they look like they need a good wax job. I can’t, in good conscience, sell hairy vaginas to your customers, Payters. That’s just wrong. Even I think so.
Me: They’re not hairy! And when they open, they’re beautiful!
Grandma: Oh, well, no one told me that.
Me: *insert eye roll gif* Never mind. I’ll order more next week.
Grandma: Grandpa says hello. Oh! Have you found a strapping young stud to do a little service work underneath the hood?
Me: Am I a car now?
Grandma: Never underestimate the power of a good mechanic, Payters. If you find one with a good dipstick, you might not mind a good servicin’ every now and again.
Me: How are we related? Seriously.
Grandma: I’m your favorite relative, and you know it. Anyway, I have go. Gpa has a handful of my poppies right now.
Me: GRANDMA! You’re at my shop!
Grandma: I know where I am, Payton. No one is here so it’s ok.
Me: No. No, it is most definitely NOT ok! *insert angry face emoji*
Grandma: Don’t act all high and mighty. I already found ass prints on the stainless steel table. I’m not pointing any fingers, but it’s not my ass print and it’s not Rachel’s – I asked her. That only leaves one ass, Payton.
I stare wide-eyed and shocked at my phone. That romp on my workbench was weeks ago. There’s no way there’s butt prints, but how else could she know about them? Unless she’s making it up in hopes that I’ll give myself away, and that’ll open a whole new can of worms I’d rather not open with Grandma.
Grandma: Got a customer! Gotta go! Toodles! *insert kissy face emoji*
See, this is why I can’t have nice things. My family is whack, and it started two generations before me.
