Even though we live not far from my maternal grandmother, whom we call Babcia (Polish), we don’t see her very often.
I had organised with her to bring Bill and kids to visit this afternoon, telling her we’d be there around 4pm.
All seven of us walked up to the front door. She opened the door but kept the fly screen door shut and said “Can I help you?”
Bill, jokingly, said “We’re selling bibles”.
She promptly told us that she wasn’t f#$%en interested and that we should f#$% off! And then closed the door.
We stood there, shocked. I thought she was joking with us. Those who know my grandmother know that she’s not your typical nice-mannered grandma! LOL
So when we realised that she was serious and wasn’t going to open the door, I knocked again and as she opened the door, she was ready to go off again when I said “Babcia!”
It was only then that she realised that it was me and she cracked up laughing and apologised over and over the whole time we were there! She swore that she didn’t recognise us and that it was my fault because I had changed my hair.
Yep, that’s my Babcia!
