Messing with the Youngsters

My brother recently told me a short story about my Grandma Doris, who was sharp as a tack until the day that she died (in December 2003 at, I think, age 93). I don't remembering hearing this story before, but I have to say that it doesn't surprise me.

Although Doris was sharp as a tack (unlike most people her age, who usually exhibit a good amount of dementia), she did seem to occasionally be forgetful. One might start out a story with something like "Did I tell you about the time...?" And, on occasion, Doris would do that with a story maybe 5 minutes after having told us that same story. Well, one time, my brother caught her doing that on purpose---with full knowledge of having just told the story---just to fuck with us. And I bet she did it a lot; I certainly wouldn't put that past her, and I'm sure we deserved it, too.

I am so going to steal this idea when I'm old (assuming I last that long) and it's my turn to tell stories to the youngsters. Right before I tell them to get off my ****ing lawn...