by Beth Goodman

Disclaimers: None whatsoever. Oh, maybe a spew alert.

Feedback is always welcome: bethgoodman@e-scribblers.com.

Copyright © 2004 by Beth Goodman. All Rights Reserved.

---

Saturdays we would catch the number 76A bus to the Villa Italia mall. We didn't have a car, and Granny would have been lethal behind the wheel anyway.

The trips to the mall were just a way to kill time and see a bit of the world. It was the only place the bus close to us went, except for downtown, which didn't have much to offer at the time.

After stomping the mall, the obligatory stop at the bookstore, and having our traditional lunch at Woolworth's (hot roast beef sandwiches followed by cheesecake for dessert) we would hike out to the bus stop in the mall parking lot to catch the ride home.

Our bus only ran once an hour, and we didn't want to miss it, so we usually got there early and had to wait a fair while.

Once, when I was about 10, which put Granny somewhere near 80, we were hanging out at the bus stop, wishing it were closer to the air conditioned mall, killing time. Now, *I* had a new book to read, and was rather engrossed in it-- but Granny was at loose ends.

Now as an adult, I realize how dangerous I can be when I'm bored, I just didn't know when I was a kid that the same could be said of Granny.

Suddenly she leans over to me and whispers, "You're a little shit!"

I knew she was trying to get my goat, and besides I had a new book! So, I ignored her.

"You're a little shit!" again interrupts my reading bliss, but once I get my nose in a book, I'm pretty much a goner.

Frustrated, Granny turns it up a notch, and this time I get a poke in the ribs along with "You're a little shit!"

I whipped around and spouted, "Knock it off you old buzzard!" And was immediately smacked upside the head by the lady standing on the other side of me, and lectured about respecting my elders.

I thought Granny was going to hurt herself laughing. There is no justice in this world.

Yep, that was her, the light of my life. My best friend, my mall buddy, and my occasional partner in crime. She passed away when I was 19, and I've been without her for 17 years now, but every now and again I still hear a whisper on the wind, "You're a little shit!"

God bless you, Granny. And keep and eye out for me, I can't wait to settle the score, you old buzzard.

Take me to Life With Granny 2...

Feed the Scribbler: bethgoodman@e-scribblers.com.