Saturday, May 7, 2011

It's Okay to Poop Your Pants if All Your Friends Are Doing It

Hello people who like me...and those who don't and only read this because they enjoy how much I irritate them,

In honor of Mother's Day, this blog will be dedicated to the best, beautiful, witty, eccentric grandmother anyone could have - Evelyn Shellabarger.

Today, I visited my gradmother at the nursing home. Just so you guys can get a mental picture, she looks a lot like me just with a much longer nose, uglier clothes, and an electric wheelchair.

After listening to my grandma for two hours, I realized that the nursing home isn't much different than college. Grandma and her friend, Madeline, are the "Queen Bees" of the nursing home. They decide where people sit, what people do, and whether or not certain things are "cool."
Similarities I have noted between the nursing home and college:
1) People in both places seem to be okay to pee anywhere but the toilet.
2) There is always someone screaming - be it in delight, or pain, or just to yell.
3) Two-thirds of the residents are usually sleeping.
4) The cafeteria smells like wet dog.
5) People will run you over if you get in there way.
6) The people smell.

Differences between the nursing home and college:
1) You almost get run over by electric wheel chairs instead of actual cars
2) You can talk smack about the people in the nursing home because they can't hear you, and if they do hear you, they will forget what you said right after you leave.
3) You're allowed to have cats in the nursing home

Anyways, grandma is my hero. She had beaten three types of cancer. She was married to the love of her life for decades, and she raised my wonderful father to be all he is today. I love her so much for all that. However, the most entertaining aspects of my grandmother are her nursing home stories. So, the rest of this blog are true, paraphrased stories that my grandmother told us today...enjoy:

I call this story: Prune Juice is Never Good
"Todd, your bowels need to move. Go to my house and get my laxatives; they are very gentle. You will barely notice. Well if you're not going to use them, at least have Mary get you some prune juice. Let me tell you what, my neighbor Madeline drank a glass of prune juice yesterday and she sh*t herself. She had to clean it up and she said 'I just threw my pants away because I don't clean up sh*t.'"

And this one is called: BINGO
"I like to sit by the bingo caller because I'm hard on hearing. Well, there is a woman here who doesn't like me and just to spite me she gets to bingo an hour and a half early and she sits in my seat. So, the other day, Madeline saw her coming down the hallway towards the bingo room and she ran to my seat and she put her cane on it and she said 'This is Evelyn's seat.' She hasn't sat in my seat since."

Last, but not least: Not So Mexican Hat Dance
"Madeline came down to my room the other day and asked if I wanted to go watch Mexican dancing. I went with her because Price is Right had just ended. We got down there, and I didn't see one Mexican. There were three old women up there dancing to Spanish music; there wasn't one Mexican. I looked at Madeline and I said, 'I sat here for an hour and a half to watch three old women make an a** of themselves.'"

Keep Letting It Be,
Em

1 comment:

  1. Dear Emily,

    OHMIGOSH I MISSED BLOGGING WITH YOU!!! Your grandma is hilarious. My grandparents have bingo stories, too these days. What IS it with bingo?! Oh, and, by the way *bother* you have not updated in a considerable amount of time. Just saying. ^_^

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