Make Me a Sammich

It's one o'clock in the morning. I'm too scared to try to go to sleep, so I'll blog. Nighttime is a horrible time for me. Lots of barfing. Lots of acid. Lots of restless legs. So I'm avoiding the trauma for now.

I'm trying to write down stories about my gramps so that my kids and grandkids will know what he was like. My kids kind of know him, but I know he won't be with us forever - their kid memories of him will mostly fade. So I'm typing stuff as it happens.

The title of my post comes from this song:


Which is a spoof of this song:


I love both of 'em.

A few weeks ago, I was having a very, very, very busy day. I had a teeny pocket of time in which to drop Micah off at my mom's before taking Sadie to her dance thing. I had to try to stuff some kind of lunch down my throat and my kids' throats before rushing off, so I planned on making some lunch at her house. I walked in the back door of my mom's house, and there was my gramps, sitting at the counter.

"Hey, Gramps!" I yelled. (He's hard of hearing, so I have to yell a little bit.)

"Hellooooo!" he said, in his cute little muddled, muffled way.

"Where's Mom?" I asked, looking around.

"I don't know."

"Didn't she answer the door for you?"

"No, I walk in the back without knocking, just like you."

"Have you looked around for her?"

"Yes, downstairs and up, and I can't find her."

"Did you look in the backyard?"

"Yep. Not there, either."

"Her car is here..."

"Yeah, I know she's here. I just figure she's got to come out sometime."

I grinned and walked around. I heard the sound of splashing water (it was very faint, so I know it didn't get through to Gramps' ears) and I knew she was taking a bath. I went into the bathroom and said (through the curtain), "Hey, Ma, I'm here. And Gramps is here, too!"

She said, "Gramps?"

"Yep."

"He just came in?"

"Yeah. And he couldn't find you anywhere."

"Huh. Alright, I'm coming out in a sec."

So I run into the kitchen to start making some sandwiches for the teeny ones. Gramps sees what I'm doing, and he goes, "Hey, will you make one for me, too?"

I was seriously strapped for time, but I just had to do it for him. Because he's cute. It ended up taking forever, because he couldn't decide between a half sandwich or a whole, Miracle Whip or mayonnaise, what kind of meat... And he couldn't hear the options I was giving him, so I had to repeat myself a few times. I could tell he was so thrilled that someone was making a sandwich for him, though, so I did it. Because of my Gramps Sandwich Foray, Sadie and I ended up eating ours in the car on the way to the ballet thing.

So that's my cute story. At least I think it's cute. I'm glad I could provide him some happiness by making him a sandwich. It really would be quite luxurious to have someone else make a sandwich for me. That hasn't happened in years...