Bob is my 80 year old grandfather, but I call him Bob instead of grandfather. Always have. I moved from my parent's house in January 2010 to Bob's house. Bob is eccentric, even as far as old men go. I always appreciated it, but I was never quite exposed to it this much. Now, I want everyone to know about my experiences. You may laugh, but I shake my head. All of these short stories are true. They are not fabricated or exaggerated. They are Bob at his finest. If 'finest' is the right word
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Jenga
A while ago, my brothers, my grandmother, and I were playing Jenga in Bob's kitchen while he was reading the newspaper. As Jenga usually goes, several minutes of silence were broken, by the toppling of wooden bricks on the table and the linoleum floor. Amidst this sudden chaos and our laughing, Bob stands up, slams his paper down, and shouts, "Oh S%*#!" After a moment of Bob staring at the table, he sheepishly returns to his seat with a smirk, "I thought the chandelier fell down." We laugh harder. I have never heard Bob cuss, before or since.
