Grandma and the rugrat...

[AmBraCol]

My Grandma was quite a character. Born in Vermont, spent most of her life west of the Mississippi. To keep this in the genre of the forum I'll start off with a levergun story. My uncles had a Winchester 67 youth model with the short factory barrel. They cleaned the local theater after the movies and found a lot of spare change, which they used to keep themselves in ammo, mostly 22 Shorts for the economy of plinking but the occasional box of 22 LR for hunting. But as they grew older they wanted a deer rifle. One day Grandma was talking with an acquaintance and found out that he had a "deer rifle" for sale. She dickered with him a bit and a deal was struck. When she got home she told the boys, who of course wanted to know what make, model, caliber and such it was. Her reply was, "I don't know. It's a deer rifle." This of course resulted in groans and lamentations among the boys. Later on she went back to town and brought the rifle and some ammunition back home. It turned out to be a Winchester Model 64 in 25-35 caliber, just adequate for Arizona game at the time. The boys were delighted, set up a can to shoot at and proceeded to show that they had some work to do to be ready to shoot a deer. Grandma came out and said, "Here. Let me try." The boys of course proceeded to rub in the fact that "She doesn't even know what it is!" Grandma took the rifle and proceeded to roll their tin can target with repeated shots. She didn't know WHAT it was, but she sure knew how to use it!

Grandpa and Grandma had one and a half dozen children. Another way they expressed it was that they had six sons and each one had a sister. And it was that one, the sister, the only one with XX chromosomes, that was Grandma's blind spot. For the most part she was strict and fair in her dealings with us cousins - as long as the mix didn't include any of The One's progeny. So we knew from early on, what Grandma said, Grandma meant. This was a novelty to many, even back then in the 60's and 70's when the Modern Way of raising kids was already raising its ugly head and casting a shadow across Western civilization.

By the time my siblings and I came along, Grandma did sewing, both repairs and made to measure clothing, to help make ends meet. She also occasionally took in kids to look after while their mothers were at work. And here's where the Rug Rat comes into the story. He was raised by The Modern Method of child rearing which means that he did not pay attention to what those in charge had to say as he was bound and determined to do whatever he wanted to do. First day at Grandma's place and he started up a step ladder and Grandma said, get down from there. Rug rat kept on going. Grandma waited until his Seat of Learning was about level with her shoulder and she smacked him good and proper with a resounding, tingling Typical Grandma Correction Spank level of application. He went scooting down the ladder much faster than he went up, his eyes wide with surprise and stuttering, "But, but, but - you DIDN'T COUNT TO THREE!". To which Grandma mildly explained, "In this house children obey the first time I speak." And so the Rug Rat was introduced to Grandma's Way - no threats, no cajoling, just simple implementation of the house rules.

And Grandma's rules were usually fair and evenly applied, as long as The Blind Spot's progeny were not involved. From that I learned to mean what I say and to do what I promise - and TRY to not have blind spots but to be fair to everyone. It's not always possible as we all tend to overlook one thing or another and also it's easy for others to claim that one is NOT being fair as they are looking only from their own perspective. But at the end of the day, aren't we all better off when we treat others as we want to be treated and keep our word and stand by our promises?

[piller]

Well said!

[AJMD429]

My daughters are like that grandma, thankfully.

[GunnyMack]

This country could use a few grandma's like that now!

My maternal grandmother was full blooded Washoe( Piute) she married young, an Englishman and got off the reservation. Grandpa Frank was a Justice of the Peace, owned a general store. Frank was much older, when my mom was born he was 82- she has a younger brother too! Anyhow we would spend time there during the summers. One year my uncle gave me a wrist rocket. Boys being boys I terrorized the surrounding area. One morning grandma goes to collect eggs, by now the rooster is just mad at the world( guess an 8 yr old slinging rocks is enough to make a chicken MAD) the rooster attacks grandma! This was the only time I ever heard foul language from her, she walked out of the coop with broken eggs, feathers everywhere, bloody and a lifeless rooster!
Moral of the story is DONT MESS WITH GRANDMA!

[piller]

Foul language, or fowl language?
My Grandma , Dad's Mom, walked beside a covered wagon as a toddler. The family moved to the Oklahoma Panhandle. She and Grandpa had 9 kids. She had to be tough. She was about 70 when I was born, so I do not remember her as getting out and about much.