Today, on my way to class, I got call from my grandmother. As I don't like to talk and drive, I let the voicemail pick up. Listening to the voicemail in the school parking lot, I became slowly enraged. All she usually says in her messages, is "It's Grandma, call me when you get a chance." This usually means, It's Grandma, I have a lot of shit I want you to do." I have told my grandmother countless times my class schedule. She never remembers. It isn't that she has alzheimers or dimentia, like many elderly, it's that she does not care enough to remember. She is really just too busy thinking about her possible ailments and doctors' appointments.
"You called?" I say, returning her call.
"Oh yes," she said, "now the dentist, he gave you his cell phone number to call him, if I suffer any discomfort from my dentures?"
"Yes," I answer in aggravation.
"Well, I'll need you to call him on his cell phone to schedule an appointment for me to get them adjusted."
It's just like really? Really? I was so excited to be done with this round of torture only to have it prolonged. The sadistic dentist had given ME his
cell phone number because Grandma was lying in the dentist's chair. I quickly put it in a pocket in her purse. He gave it to me in case Grandma had any problem over the WEEKEND, not just any old time, and I certainly did not want to be the one to call this guy on his cell phone. I have already seen him more times in the past month than I would care to in a decade. I don't think we need to be that close.
"Why don't YOU call the office?" I suggest. "That's what you are supposed to do."
Apparently she did, because we have what has become our standing appointment scheduled for next week. I can't wait.
JoJo
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