Grandma.

Everyone who knows me well, (heck, everyone who knows me even a moderate amount,) knows that I have a crazy grandmother. That's how I identify her. I say, "My grandmother, you know, the crazy one," and everyone just nods their heads because they know exactly who I'm referring to. And they never question as to why I refer to her the way that I do. She has made a reputation for herself. They all have had the privilege of talking to her on the telephone. She has always called everyone I know randomly. I don't know why. She's called my ex-boyfriends and ex-husbands, along with my ex-in-laws. Most of them have caught on though and let her leave them a message in their voicemail. My mom hasn't figured that one out though. My grandmother calls my mother (her ex-daughter-in-law) regularly. Then I usually get a phone call from my mother complaining about how Grandma is running up her cell phone bill. Then the next time I talk to my grandmother she tells me how she can never get my mother off of the phone. She calls my cousin Julie and tells her what a horrible granddaughter I am. She'll make up these crazy stories about things I've stolen from her or awful things I've said to her. Then I get a call from Julie asking me if I knew that Grandma feels the way she does about the topic of the hour. And of course I have no idea what she's talking about. I'm thankful that Julie has the sense to know that Grandma suffers from some arterial flow problems and is in her own little world. It's always fun though to hear what soap opera scene I've participated in in Grandma's imagination. The latest one is that I took the money Grandma gave my daughters for Christmas, which was intended to buy clothes with, and took Matt out to a big fancy dinner? First of all, Grandma did give the girls Christmas money, $10 each. But then she had them put it in their "secret hiding place" at her house for safe keeping. So I never touched the girls' Christmas money. And secondly, $20 would not touch any "big fancy dinner" that Matt and I eat. It would cover a trip though a drive-thru and that's about it. I mean, really? What kind of mother am I? My children are running around naked because I needed a Whopper and some onion rings? Yes, I understand that complaining about this to the world makes no sense because Grandma is never going to change. I just needed to vent. I'm done now.