The Grandparent Chronicles - Episode 1

The Taco Bell Incident

I've been thinking a lot about my grandparents lately.  They took us in and became not only our parents...But our hero's, our examples and our home.  Now in their 90's and not in the best of health, the reality of losing both of them has hit me hard. The last time I visited them we laughed and reminisced  I don't think I've ever seen them laugh so hard. I've decided to share a few fun memories I have of them over the next few weeks.  Here's the first one of those stories:

After a year or so of living in with my Grandparents, my  sister Lisa and I had a pretty good grasp of how things worked.  For the first time we had structure, rules and stability.  It was a whole new world and we knew we had been blessed.  Living with people who are from a very different generation was interesting to say the least. 

-For example:
-Beds had to be made in the morning before we could go down for breakfast. (this rule started as "rooms to be tidy" but for obvious reasons this was altered). 

-No one could come down for breakfast in the morning until they were fully dressed. It was a "no shoes, no shirt, no service" sort of a thing.

-Dinner was always at 6pm. Aside from the basic dish, required elements were: bread & butter and fruit of some sort eaten only on a plate with a place mat under it.

-Curfew was at midnight.  Not 12:01! (that one got me in trouble way to many times). 

-Telephone calls could never be made or received after 10:30.  I cant tell you how many times I would go over my allotted time only to hear "say Goodbye, June! Time to go June!  say Goodnight June!" until I hung up. 

-Money was a big deal.  We now had parents who came from the days of The Great Depression. We learned to save and re-use every bit of aluminum foil.  We rinsed out, washed and recycled baggies, cottage cheese containers and saved every jar.  

-Nothing was wasted.  Most of all food. Left over fat from Thursday nights fried chicken became a main ingredient for grandma's home made laundry soap.  Old bread that had begun to dry out became croutons for a salad or bread pudding.  I could write an entire blog about how frugal they were.  I could go on and on...

Because we lived in the land of being frugal, there were a few things that were just unacceptable in my grandparents eyes. NEVER had I seen or heard of them having fast food. It was fine when we got jobs working at McDonald's, but spending our hard earned money on a meal during our breaks?  That was just frivolous spending!  Grandma would tell us how much money we would have saved by making and eating a burger at home - followed by the "homemade is better anyway" or the "In my day..." speech.  

My Grandma was, and still is, dumbfounded at why anyone would want to eat fast food or pay a restaurant for a meal she could make at home.  It didn't take long for my sister and I to know better than to bring home food from work or mention eating out in our dear grandparents presence. We didn't want to disappoint them with our reckless burger buying habits.

One night the unthinkable happened. Instead of coming home to the smell of another delicious home cooked meal, Lisa and I were told to just warm up the leftovers for dinner because Grandpa & Grandma were going out to eat.  

Which basically left us looking like this:

Somehow, some part of Hell had officially frozen over.

It turns out as long time members of  DAUGHTERS OF THE UTAH PIONEERS, our grandparents had decided to attend the yearly dinner for the first time. Shock slowly turned into acceptance and intrigue. After they drove off, it probably took about 4-5 minutes before we had concocted a plan that involved Taco Bell & a car. Moments like this never happened.  It was fate - and fate wanted us to eat burritos. 

Parked and barely fitting in our garage was what we lovingly referred to as 
the WILDE-BEAST. 

We were not supposed  to take the car without permission and we had never broken that rule before. Lisa and I only used the car for work. I grabbed the keys and listened to Lisa naming all the possible things that could go wrong as she followed me out the door, into the garage, out of the driveway and the entire drive to Taco Bell. The smell flowing from the cashier's drive thru window confirmed to us that our plan was meant to be. We got our food, and we hurried home. 

Lisa was still nervous so I drove faster.  Finally we pulled into the driveway.  We had done it!  I pushed the button of the garage door opener and we glided in.  Okay, we didn't glide. I was still in a hurry. As we pulled in I went a weee bit to far and to fast.  I heard a crunching sound.  I had driven the car into the stove that was being stored in the back of the garage.  

Again...this was us:

We  were not looking forward to explaining this one.  Especially Lisa.  She was a rookie at trying to explain messes where as I had lots of practice.  After my dear little sister nearly broke out in hives stressing out. We knew we were in for the mother of all speeches. Hours went by until we decided to just go to bed and tell them in the morning. 

About 6:30am we heard a knock on our bedroom door. In walked Grandma.  She looked upset. "Girls, I need to talk to you both."  We got dressed and followed her to the kitchen.  If we were going to get in trouble, we should at least keep the "dressed before coming downstairs" rule.  But things didn't go as we expected.

She said, "Sshhhhhhh!  I want to show you something."  She walked to the back of the garage and pointed at the deformed stove and said, "I went to get bread and milk this morning and when I got home I must have hit the stove!"  Lisa and I looked at each other:

Before we had a chance to admit our crime and beg for mercy, Grandma said, "Don't say anything to Grandpa".  And so we didn't. 

The guilt had been much worse than any speech. Riddled with guilt, we admitted our Taco Bell crime years later. My grandparents just laughed. Grandpa told us it was not the first time or the last time driving the over sized Wilde-Beast had caused damage.  Driving that bad boy was like driving a large boat. 

Moral of the story?  Dont eat fast food?  Never eat at Taco Bell? When your accomplice is nervous, listen to her?  Nothing good can come from owning a Wilde-Beast?  How about.... 

If you're going to something risky, have the appropriate vehicle. 

Or, maybe my grandpa got it right the other day when he said, 

"If you can't change the past, you may as well laugh about it." 

Wise Man.

The Taco Bell Incident

I've been thinking a lot about my grandparents lately.  They took us in and became not only our parents...But our hero's, our examples and our home.  Now in their 90's and not in the best of health, the reality of losing both of them has hit me hard. The last time I visited them we laughed and reminisced  I don't think I've ever seen them laugh so hard. I've decided to share a few fun memories I have of them over the next few weeks.  Here's the first one of those stories:

After a year or so of living in with my Grandparents, my  sister Lisa and I had a pretty good grasp of how things worked.  For the first time we had structure, rules and stability.  It was a whole new world and we knew we had been blessed.  Living with people who are from a very different generation was interesting to say the least. 

-For example:
-Beds had to be made in the morning before we could go down for breakfast. (this rule started as "rooms to be tidy" but for obvious reasons this was altered). 

-No one could come down for breakfast in the morning until they were fully dressed. It was a "no shoes, no shirt, no service" sort of a thing.

-Dinner was always at 6pm. Aside from the basic dish, required elements were: bread & butter and fruit of some sort eaten only on a plate with a place mat under it.

-Curfew was at midnight.  Not 12:01! (that one got me in trouble way to many times). 

-Telephone calls could never be made or received after 10:30.  I cant tell you how many times I would go over my allotted time only to hear "say Goodbye, June! Time to go June!  say Goodnight June!" until I hung up. 

-Money was a big deal.  We now had parents who came from the days of The Great Depression. We learned to save and re-use every bit of aluminum foil.  We rinsed out, washed and recycled baggies, cottage cheese containers and saved every jar.  

-Nothing was wasted.  Most of all food. Left over fat from Thursday nights fried chicken became a main ingredient for grandma's home made laundry soap.  Old bread that had begun to dry out became croutons for a salad or bread pudding.  I could write an entire blog about how frugal they were.  I could go on and on...

Because we lived in the land of being frugal, there were a few things that were just unacceptable in my grandparents eyes. NEVER had I seen or heard of them having fast food. It was fine when we got jobs working at McDonald's, but spending our hard earned money on a meal during our breaks?  That was just frivolous spending!  Grandma would tell us how much money we would have saved by making and eating a burger at home - followed by the "homemade is better anyway" or the "In my day..." speech.  

My Grandma was, and still is, dumbfounded at why anyone would want to eat fast food or pay a restaurant for a meal she could make at home.  It didn't take long for my sister and I to know better than to bring home food from work or mention eating out in our dear grandparents presence. We didn't want to disappoint them with our reckless burger buying habits.

One night the unthinkable happened. Instead of coming home to the smell of another delicious home cooked meal, Lisa and I were told to just warm up the leftovers for dinner because Grandpa & Grandma were going out to eat.  

Which basically left us looking like this:

Somehow, some part of Hell had officially frozen over.

It turns out as long time members of  DAUGHTERS OF THE UTAH PIONEERS, our grandparents had decided to attend the yearly dinner for the first time. Shock slowly turned into acceptance and intrigue. After they drove off, it probably took about 4-5 minutes before we had concocted a plan that involved Taco Bell & a car. Moments like this never happened.  It was fate - and fate wanted us to eat burritos. 

Parked and barely fitting in our garage was what we lovingly referred to as 
the WILDE-BEAST. 

We were not supposed  to take the car without permission and we had never broken that rule before. Lisa and I only used the car for work. I grabbed the keys and listened to Lisa naming all the possible things that could go wrong as she followed me out the door, into the garage, out of the driveway and the entire drive to Taco Bell. The smell flowing from the cashier's drive thru window confirmed to us that our plan was meant to be. We got our food, and we hurried home. 

Lisa was still nervous so I drove faster.  Finally we pulled into the driveway.  We had done it!  I pushed the button of the garage door opener and we glided in.  Okay, we didn't glide. I was still in a hurry. As we pulled in I went a weee bit to far and to fast.  I heard a crunching sound.  I had driven the car into the stove that was being stored in the back of the garage.  

Again...this was us:

We  were not looking forward to explaining this one.  Especially Lisa.  She was a rookie at trying to explain messes where as I had lots of practice.  After my dear little sister nearly broke out in hives stressing out. We knew we were in for the mother of all speeches. Hours went by until we decided to just go to bed and tell them in the morning. 

About 6:30am we heard a knock on our bedroom door. In walked Grandma.  She looked upset. "Girls, I need to talk to you both."  We got dressed and followed her to the kitchen.  If we were going to get in trouble, we should at least keep the "dressed before coming downstairs" rule.  But things didn't go as we expected.

She said, "Sshhhhhhh!  I want to show you something."  She walked to the back of the garage and pointed at the deformed stove and said, "I went to get bread and milk this morning and when I got home I must have hit the stove!"  Lisa and I looked at each other:

Before we had a chance to admit our crime and beg for mercy, Grandma said, "Don't say anything to Grandpa".  And so we didn't. 

The guilt had been much worse than any speech. Riddled with guilt, we admitted our Taco Bell crime years later. My grandparents just laughed. Grandpa told us it was not the first time or the last time driving the over sized Wilde-Beast had caused damage.  Driving that bad boy was like driving a large boat. 

Moral of the story?  Dont eat fast food?  Never eat at Taco Bell? When your accomplice is nervous, listen to her?  Nothing good can come from owning a Wilde-Beast?  How about.... 

If you're going to something risky, have the appropriate vehicle. 

Or, maybe my grandpa got it right the other day when he said, 

"If you can't change the past, you may as well laugh about it." 

Wise Man.