Conversations With My Mother
Grandma Nobody
"I remember, when I was little, my Grandma Nobody--your great-grandmother, obviously--only left the house for church."
"Really?"
"Yeah. She was weird."
"So how'd she get food? Did she just, like, devour the souls of little children who walked by her house or what?"
"No, she had someone go in and do that for her."
"So she left the house only for church, and she managed to convince someone to smuggle groceries to her house. Alright, where'd she live?"
"You know where the Catholic Church in Nobodyville is?"
"Yeah."
"And you know how there's that street going up towards the golf course?"
"Yeah."
"She lived on that street. It was the corner of that street and one of the other ones a couple of blocks up from the main street."
"No shit. So did she at least leave the house to put her laundry on the line?"
"Well, yeah."
"She didn't leave the house much."
"Nah, only like once a week."
"Even I leave the house more often than that, mum."
"No you don't!"
"I go to IGA."
"Well, yeah."
"I do that basically every day, or every other day or whatever."
"Yeah, I guess..."
"So the actual number of instances per week of me walking out the front door to go somewhere actually outnumber the number of instances per week of Grandma Nobody doing so."
"Yeah, that's true. But how many hours do you actually spend outside, Cal?"
"Probably like three quarters of one all up per week, unless I actually have to do more than get bread and milk."
"You know that church services go for more than forty-five minutes right?"
"Well yeah, but that's because everyone gets drunk."
"They don't get drunk at church, Cal."
"Then what's the wine for?"
"It's meant to be the blood of Christ."
"Well, if I'm going to go to church and drink the blood of Christ at the end, they'd better make sure it's enough to get me drunk. That's some trippy stuff."
"You're ridiculous."
"So you're seriously telling me that Grandma Nobody only left the house for church?"
"Yes."
"Wow, that's weird."
"Really?"
"Yeah. She was weird."
"So how'd she get food? Did she just, like, devour the souls of little children who walked by her house or what?"
"No, she had someone go in and do that for her."
"So she left the house only for church, and she managed to convince someone to smuggle groceries to her house. Alright, where'd she live?"
"You know where the Catholic Church in Nobodyville is?"
"Yeah."
"And you know how there's that street going up towards the golf course?"
"Yeah."
"She lived on that street. It was the corner of that street and one of the other ones a couple of blocks up from the main street."
"No shit. So did she at least leave the house to put her laundry on the line?"
"Well, yeah."
"She didn't leave the house much."
"Nah, only like once a week."
"Even I leave the house more often than that, mum."
"No you don't!"
"I go to IGA."
"Well, yeah."
"I do that basically every day, or every other day or whatever."
"Yeah, I guess..."
"So the actual number of instances per week of me walking out the front door to go somewhere actually outnumber the number of instances per week of Grandma Nobody doing so."
"Yeah, that's true. But how many hours do you actually spend outside, Cal?"
"Probably like three quarters of one all up per week, unless I actually have to do more than get bread and milk."
"You know that church services go for more than forty-five minutes right?"
"Well yeah, but that's because everyone gets drunk."
"They don't get drunk at church, Cal."
"Then what's the wine for?"
"It's meant to be the blood of Christ."
"Well, if I'm going to go to church and drink the blood of Christ at the end, they'd better make sure it's enough to get me drunk. That's some trippy stuff."
"You're ridiculous."
"So you're seriously telling me that Grandma Nobody only left the house for church?"
"Yes."
"Wow, that's weird."