F-town
After a night of heavy drinking we woke up to find "prunes are gross, Jesus" written on her grandma's bag of prunes, with no explanation as to why.
After a night of heavy drinking we woke up to find "prunes are gross, Jesus" written on her grandma's bag of prunes, with no explanation as to why.
When my grandma talked her way out of being arrested by the Disney police, I knew it was the best vacation ever.
The orange juice I was making while she died ended up being so sour it was undrinkable.
My oldest sister once curiously asked my Grandma Helen why her phone number was written on her arm.
"Your mother has never sat on a bar stool in her life," my father told me, and I replied, "Your mother has, and next to me."
Grandma hasn't been the same since she flipped her SUV into that ravine.
For three long, dreadful years of my life I lived with her, I breathed in her foul smelling second hand smoke every single day, and as she died many years later, I sat there wishing I could breathe it again just one last time.