Victor’s meemaw is like everyone else’s grandma in that she tells the same ten stories every time we see her. One time Victor got his head stuck in the fence at Disneyland (when he was trying to cut in line) and Goofy had to put butter on his ears to get him out. I have heard this story so often I can lip sync it. Well, just the first part really because then I stop listening and just nod the rest of the time. But then one time meemaw told us that one Easter when she was a kid she and her brothers were rock hunting and dug up a dead body from an Indian graveyard and brought it home to show her parents. Then they decided to store it under her dad’s bed and somehow over the years it got lost. I was all “YOU DUG UP A BODY FOR EASTER?” and she was totally nonchalant and tried to change to the subject to tell me for the 8 billionth time how Victor ate 12 milkshakes when he was 14 and I was all “LEAD WITH THE DEAD BODY STORY” but she didn’t think it was important because “it wasn’t anyone we knew“. I’m not sure why I’m bringing this up except that I was just thinking that one day I’ll be the same way, except that my grandkids will be all “Yeah yeah, we read it in the book” and I never even dug up a human corpse. How am I supposed to top that? I’ll just be rambling about how hard blogging was back in the day and my grandkids will be tuning me out as they create porn holograms with their built in brain-computers. The future is bleak, y’all.
PS. My sister just reminded me that our grampa also dug up a corpse when he was a kid so maybe we shouldn’t be so judgmental, but the corpse was a relative and then he buried her again so I’m pretty sure we win. Plus, he was doing it to solve a crime. Sort of. My grampa was like the Hardy Boys except that there was just one of him and no one cared what he found out. Probably because no one wanted to talk to the kid who just dug up his dead aunt. There are laws against that sort of shit, grampa.
PPS. I’m really tempted to call my only living grandma to ask if she ever dug up a corpse. Was this just what people did in the roaring 30’s? No one ever talks about that.
PPPS. Sorry. This isn’t a real post. It’s just me rambling. Much like the me of the future. It’s a sneak-peek at how I’m going to be when I’m elderly. I’ll be very concerned about digging up corpses, obviously. Also, is it weird that I feel like I missed out on not digging up a human corpse when I was little enough to not go to jail for it? It seems strange to feel like a missing part of your childhood didn’t involve grave-robbing. Maybe it’s just me.
PPPPS. Next time you see your grandparents ask them if they ever dug up a body. I’m doing a poll. In fact, call them now. They’d probably appreciate a call from you anyway.