On Grandmothers and Eight Year-Olds

We’ll start with an eight year-old.

I’ve never recommended a YouTube video. More than likely I never will again.

But if you hate Bill O’Reilly, watch this eight year-old spout sense that would do Keith Olbermann proud.

I’ll put it like this. My jaw hit the desk a few times.

You go, girl!

Now, my grandmother.

Today is her birthday. She is, if I’m counting correctly, eighty-six.

At dinner I said to her, “So how was your birthday today?”

She said nothing. My mom looked at her. “Mom, how was your birthday today?”

My grandmother looked to my mother. “Who’s birthday?”

“Your birthday.”

“I thought you were talking about someone else,” said my grandmother.

“There’s only four of us here,” I said. “You’re the only one with a birthday today.”

My grandmother gestured at my father. “It could have been his birthday.”


Once again, she regaled us with the tale of a trip to Washington (this time, without lunch with Chimpie) and then out to the mountains in western Maryland.


But then I watch that eight year-old girl deliver the smack to Bill O’Reilly, and my day brightened considerably. Watch her. 🙂

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