Peer pressure is ageless
Now, before I start today's story which is funny, you all have to promise you can read my blog without sharing with certain people. Although I have relatives of Facebook that get my feed, I am not actually worried about them. I doubt they read me anyway. I had to cut back on funny family stories at one point, but I think that has blown over.
I think that does it for the disclaimers.
So, yesterday, my mother in her hushed voice (so Dad wouldn't listen I guess - I actually, I think she is just a drama queen) says, "Guess what your Grandmother wants for Christmas."
First of all, why is she always MY grandmother? Secondly, any time I am supposed to guess with mom, I can never come up with it. And third, - really don't want to know. This is just instinct.
"Why on earth does Grandmother want an iPod?
"Sandra has one."
At least it wasn't her friend BC. I think BC was in her 70s when she gained that nickname. It's still a friend jealous of another friend's toys.
Before I can even say anything to comment...
"She says you don't have to have a computer and Sandra has the Bible on hers."
"If any aren't syncing music, no, you don't. But, if you download anything, you have to pay for apps and service to be able to download it. Not to mention she never would figure it out and the one that would do that over $200."
"It's not like she could actually read it that small. Besides, why is she always telling us what we can get her, but she never asks what we would like?"
We need not discuss her shopping tendencies again. She may have learned not to order anything off the envelop flap of her department store bill after the last time.
She really does not need an iPod.
In other family news, my mother needs to lay off the family research. Not only do I have plenty of family as it is, I think she has discovered that she has married her 5th cousin or something. Evidently she has discovered that both my dad's side and her side had a common grandmother. I find this more troubling than my boss' husband found my admission about Jimmy Carter.
Probably explains my apparent double fat gene.
As if the Branson vacation was not bad enough, next year they plan to visit cemeteries in Virginia and Tennessee. If they think for a minute that I want to tour the country looking for headstones, insanity runs deeper than I thought. The only bright side of that is the common relatives means fewer people to find.