So ever since the Grand Opening I’ve been expecting a visit. For those of you who are just arriving the Grand Opening was last week, you missed it. There were balloons, and rotten egg flavoured pastries. Anyway, since unleashing the Great Unwashed on the world I’ve been expecting a knock at my door. Mostly because I know that this scenario is going to be happening at some point in the future.
~Somewhere in the Kawarthas~
The sound of a phone ringing. It’s my great aunt calling my Granddad to catch up.
(Sorry Aunty Betty, I’m not meaning to pin Granddad finding out about my blog on you, someone was bound to tell him.)
Granddad – “She what?”
The sounds of scrabbling and Granddad stepping over three poodles to get to his beloved laptop that Roscoe helped pick out. More sounds, this time of furious typing.
Granddad’s eyes will scan the web page, growing more alarmed with each line he reads. Finally he’ll bellow “Gran! Get the dogs in the RV, we’re going to visit our wayward granddaughter.”
Several driving and dog filled hours later there will be the sounds of footsteps and paws coming up the steps and violating our “No Pets” lease followed by a knock on my front door.
I’ll open it. He’ll gruffly hand me something before pulling me into a hug and an equally gruff lecture.
Granddad- “Here’s some soap, start bathing dammit and you need to stop telling the world that you don’t.”
It hasn’t happened yet but I‘m expecting a reaction on par with the one that I received when I dyed my hands bright purple on Boxing Day five years ago.