SecretsPosted: May 25, 2012
Granny’s been engaging in some flirtatious banter with an old hippie on JDate. Although he lives in South Florida, he wrote to her that he’s been “chilling” with some pals in Cali for the past few weeks. Based off his profile, where he tells tales of working on a Kibbutz, owning vegetarian restaurants, and winning tennis competitions, it’s clear that this man has led quite a life. But of course, so has Granny.
“He asked, ‘What’s the subject of your best story?’” she told me, clearly entertained.
“What is it?” I asked, expecting her to draw a blank or at the very least take a moment to consider.
“Oh, he doesn’t want to know,” she said, bursting out in to a fit of giddy laughter. “Or I don’t want to tell him. One or the other.”
I was suspicious and envious, how did my 76 year-old Granny know off the top of her head the subject of her best story? She’s lived fifty years longer than me, had countless more experiences and yet she automatically knew what it was. If someone asked me that question I’d need time to think and then probably opt for the top five, where at least one tale would involve summer camp.
“What is it?” I asked, brimming with curiosity.
“I’m not going to do this with you now,” she firmly stated.
I couldn’t believe how certain she was in her story. I needed to know what she was holding back. I know Granny’s lived a wild life but I never thought to ask her such a simple yet intriguing question. “You know immediately what the subject of your best story is?” I pressed on.
“Yes,” she confidently confirmed. “But I’m not going to tell you now, I have company.”
Ah, the relationship between a mother and daughter. I love that the judgment gets to skip a generation and I get to be the one swapping salacious secrets with my Granny. I haven’t squeezed the story out of her yet, but I will. Ohhhh trust me, I will.
LISTEN TO OUR CONVO: convo