Comedy On Wheels

Good Lord! My life could be a #1 sitcom. Today would be one of the very best episodes. It all started so simply.....
My grandmother woke up bright and early today. I jumped out of bed realizing that today is beauty shop day. I figured Moma knew that too, so she was anxious to get up and get going. I hurriedly fixed her breakfast and set about getting ready myself. I went back into the kitchen to check on her and she said, "Where you going?" Hmmm....maybe she doesn't realize it. I said, "We are going to the beauty shop today, and out to eat!" She snarled her lip and said, "I don't want to go today!" I reminded her that Saturday is our family reunion and she needed to go so she'd look good for the family she hasn't seen in ages. She shook her head no at me. I said, rather forcefully, "Moma, you do not want to go to the family reunion with your hair looking like that (it's in Einstein mode)!" She said, "I don't care". Humph! She wears me out. Any other time, she'd have a fit if I didn't take her. I continued getting myself ready. Of course, by the time I got back to the bathroom, Rebekah had locked me out. She was getting herself ready for work. I managed to get in and finish with my make-up and hair. I went into Moma's room where she had returned from breakfast and was lounged back on her bed. I opened her closet and pulled out a skirt and blouse with a jacket. She snarled and said, "I ain't a wearing that!" I said, "Why?" No answer. "Why Moma?" "I DON'T WANT TO!" Okay....I pulled out her old faithful pink suit that she wears everywhere.....yes, that is what she wanted. She is a creature of habit! I left her to get dressed and went about getting things ready for us to leave. When I came back in, she had on another blouse that didn't really match, but was okay. I said, "Why didn't you wear the blouse I had picked out" She mumbled something and I let it go, anticipating a few hours of freedom! Getting her to finally go out the door is a feat, so I began that. Finally after touching everything in her room and considering whether she would need it, we started out the door. Of course, Rebekah told me as I left that she would need her costume for tonight's performance washed before she got home from work today. Nice. I sigh, "Leave it on the washing machine" and we head out the door.
All the way to the beauty shop, I answer these questions repeatedly:
1. "I ain't got no money to pay them, can you pay for it? I'll pay you back"
2. "What's today?"
3. "Do I need a haircut?"
4. "Where are we going?"
5. "Do I look alright?"
Skipping ahead to when I picked her up (there is MUCH material during my time without her, as I am a disaster looking for a place to happen, but Hey! this is her blog), she was getting combed out when I got to the beauty shop. She wiggles, winces and screams and I am happy to pay whatever they ask because she is dreadful in that chair. Then Dinah pulls out the dreaded tweezers and Moma starts screaming "Stop that!", but Dinah tells her no and continues. "I can't let you go to the family reunion with a beard!" Moma looks up at her and says, "Thank-ye" I am wondering if this is partly sarcastic...yeah, I'm sure of it.
We finally get her out the door, in the truck, buckled in and ready for flight. I'm telling you it is worse than loading up two kids; two kids in car seats!
"Where are we going?" she asks. "Where do you want to go?" I say, trying to be funny, but let her tell me where she would like to go. "No where" is her response. I said, "Let's go eat lunch". She agrees and rides very quietly. Of course, when we get to Courtyard, it was packed! I thought it would be a good place for her to eat with all the veggies. I get tired of Uncle Sam's, even though that is her favorite. I decided to go on to the bank first, since Courtyard was packed. As I drove, I decided to call my friend again to check on her father who had surgery today. "Who are you calling?" I said, "Jenny". "WHO???" I scream "JENNY MOON"! "I'm sorry, I know I get on your nerves asking questions" (you think?) I told her that I knew she wouldn't know who I was talking about. Ugh....guilt sucks. When we arrived back at the Courtyard, it was thinning out a bit. Now, I am a little (little? ha) competitive when it comes to beating people into a restaurant, doctor's office, etc. Two cars were parking while we were getting out, and I was practically racing her into the Cultural Arts building. She kept saying, "Not so fast...". And by the way, we beat the other people. We signed in and got seated fairly quickly. She kept saying she had never eaten there, but she would say that if she ate there yesterday. Our waitress came over and took our orders. I noticed that Moma is not scooted up to the table, one of her new "things". I offered to help her, she refused. She rambled through her purse while we waited (I can't imagine who y'all are thinking about!). Our food came, and right off the bat, "This steak is so tough, I can't eat it!" and "This is too much food". "She'll have to bring me a box". I quietly but firmly said, "Moma, we'll get you a box for what you don't eat, but just eat! Eat what you can now". The waitress passed by, and "HEY LADY! HEY LADY!!!!" I wanted to die. "Moma, stop it!" The waitress came over to us, and Moma began barking orders about a go box". I apologized to her and said, "She can wait", but apparently she could not. Again, she barked, "I WANT A BOX FOR THIS FOOD!" The waitress smiled and went and got her one. UGH!! Urge to kill...She had not eaten more than 3 or 4 bites all together. She had not even drunk one sip of tea. I know this little woman well. She is so greedy, she wanted to take it all home. I scarfed my food down before she did anything else, and jumped up to go pay the bill. "WHERE YOU GOING?" she shouted. "To pay the bill" I replied. I vowed to give the waitress the change and more for a tip. When I got back to the table, she said in her loud high pitched voice "Well, I ain't ready to go!" Not a scrap was on her plate NOR MINE. She even swiped up the desserts. She wanted to drink her tea. AUGHHH!! The urge to kill her was getting stronger! Then she started making the digestive noises! The small burp with a large gulp of air, then a sigh....and then....and then.....she began to rake her finger along her nasty teeth and inspect what she had discovered like it was buried treasure. I couldn't help myself, "STOP THAT! Let's go!" Of course, as luck would have it when I got her to the door, it had begun to rain. I had to go through the "You stay here and I'll go get the car..." routine, which involves me repeating and screaming at her until strangers want to intervene. I ran in the rain to the truck, and drove around to get her. Needless to say, I was soaked, she had a tiny few sprinkles on her jacket. Whew! One last journey! I had to go to Dr. 10! for my chiropractic (is that how you spell it?) appointment. By then, it was POURING rain. I thought that since she didn't eat much, I should stop and get her a milkshake, plus that will keep her busy while I am in the doctor's office. There was a line at Chik-Filet, but not too bad. When we got up to the window, the girl handed me Moma's shake first, but when she handed me mine, the lid was not on good, and I was spilling it. I managed to get it out the window (in the pouring rain)and put the lid back on, without spilling one drop in the truck. As we started out of the parking lot, I heard Moma scream....she had dumped 1/2 of her milkshake into the cup holders in KERRY PAYNE'S NEW TRUCK! (Pinky, do not mention this to him please) I pulled over and managed to get it up before she smeared it and rubbed it in. Finally, we started out to Dr. 10's office. When we arrived, my friend Dawn pulled up next to us, as her appointment was the same time as mine. I roll down the window a crack to talk to her, while in the background, Moma was asking, "Why are you talking to her?" which I totally ignored! It was still raining pretty good, and Moma wanted to sit in the car. At this point, she could sit in the rain, for all I cared. I got out and ran it, with Dawn in tow. Dawn was worried about Moma. She was alone in this thought process.
As my appointment was ending, we heard the car horn....over and over....no, it was the alarm in the truck. Precious had set it off. So off I ran....could not wait to get her home, happy, knowing that I passed the test. If I was EVER going to kill her, it would have been today, and I didn't.