Please note that I do not share my grandmother’s views, except her view on cake. We both love a good cake.
I thought I’d take a break from the mind numbing process of writing a five page “mini” paper about the history of media to update the world on my extremely racist grandmother.
Why? Well, procrastination mostly.
So she came over when I was mid-thesis writing because she wanted me to give my brother a birthday card (which probably contains a large amount of undeserved money, as she loves her 22 year old grandson best. pfft).
Anyway.
She asked me if I had seen my little cousin lately, and I told her I did about a month ago. To which she replied by telling me how tall my cousin has grown since I’d last seen her (she said it like I hadn’t seen her in years), and informed me she has started first grade (like I’ve been living under a rock and had no idea). Oh grandmothers.
On to the good part.
My grandmother then informed me that she did not like the school my cousin was starting at.
“Oh, why is that?” I inquired. (look I used inquired instead of asked, how fancy!)
“All the Bosnians and gangs.”
I thought she was joking.
Nope. In our small city, where we have very little crime of any sort, to the point where somebody stealing $50 from the local gas station will have their face thrown up on the news and talked about like it’s the most exciting thing since the discovery of the red panda (aren’t they just the cutest though?), my grandmother is convinced my 1st grade cousin is attending a gang ridden elementary school.
I have nothing more for you today, because.. I.. just.. ugh. Grandma.
Jessi
P.s. also note that I love my grandmother, but jeez.
Concrete Globe 