My Mom has never been one to shy away from a good confrontation. Over the years, I've watched her scold teachers, doctors, lawyers, city officials, and, I believe, the State Superintendent of Education. The woman has no fear.
Now that she's a Granny, it's much, much worse...
I happened to mention to her in passing that I took her grandbaby to the mall play area today. In the course of his big fun, he was pushed by a rather rotund 3-year-old that didn't want to share. No major drama, no injuries and it was forgotten in seconds.
I will have to keep these stories to myself from now on.
This was the phone call I just received:
I think I need to come up there and go to the play area. Someone needs their butt kicked.
He didn't hurt him, and your grandbaby has sharing issues as well.
Well, I don't like it when you say that. I'm sure he didn't do anything wrong. One eyeball from me and the chubby kid will run off crying. I need to go to the play area.
Mom, have you been stewing about this all day?
Maybe. All I know is that I can't hear stories like that. I'm all fired up! I need to go to the play area and deal with the situation. I'm a Granny, you know.
Ugh, I know.
The day a Granny was born...