This is a story that got brought up in conversation with some work folk the other day. I thought it was a good idea to also share it on this platform. So that everyone* can know the story.
*By “everyone”, I mean, all 8 of you.
In my defense, this story took place when I was very young. So young that I don’t even remember it; it’s just a story that my family likes to remind me of. Every. Chance. They get. As such, this story is told according to how it has been told to me.
When I was very young, I lived with Mom (my mother), Granny (my maternal grandmother) and Danny (my older brother). I loved Granny more than life itself. She basically couldn’t have a waking moment alone without me following her around and being a general pest. Anywhere Granny went, I went too; anything Granny did, I wanted to do too. Naturally, she nicknamed me her shadow.
Despite the fact that Granny loved me almost as much as I loved her, there were times when I just couldn’t tag along. I hated these times probably as much as Granny longed for them.
One day, there was something Granny had to do that I couldn’t be a part of. She walked out the door with a grin on her face and I stood there scowling with my hands on my hips. You could say I was unhappy with being left at home while Granny frolicked. Or went to the doctor, but whatever, I was 3.
Shortly after Granny returned home, her and Mom noticed something.
Upon closer inspection…
Upon even closer inspection…
Eventually the “where did the shit come from” game ended and Granny made her way upstairs to her bedroom.
That’s right. I shit on my grandmother’s bed to get back at her.
Moral of the story: Don’t piss me off and leave me alone with your things.