95 is Just a Number.

The other day while we were at work my husband reminded me of a story I have yet to tell about my grandmother. This actually happened while my grandmother still lived in Newark--I believe this was close to three years ago.

Mother: "Let me tell you what my mother did today."
Me: "Wait," I said, pulling up a seat.
Me: "Let me give you my full, undivided attention." (I knew enough to know this was going to be good.)
Mother: "So um...today your grandmother and I went grocery shopping."
Me: (On the edge of my seat.) "Yeah. You told me you were going to swing by to pick her up and that you'd be home late."

Mother: "Okay well...when we got back to her house and got out of the car to take the groceries inside, we realized that Grandma had locked herself out of the house."
Me: "Oh greeeeat."
Mother: "Yeah. So she locked herself out and she KNOWS there is a key somewhere."
Me: "Somewhere." (insert sarcasm)
Mother: "Exactly. SOMEWHERE. She can't remember where it is, of course."

(snickering)

Me: "So you and Grandma were outside of her house searching for this mysterious hidden key for exactly how long?"
Mother: "Oh...for a good while. UnTIL Until I went to look for it inside of the birdhouse and turned around to ask if we should call John (my mothers' brother who lives down the road from my grandmother) and saw Grandma crawling in the window."
Me: "Really....she really needs to give you a k---WHAT?! Did you say crawling in the window!?"

Mother: laughter.

Me: "I don't even know what to say (laughter). I really just...don't even know what to say. Okay--I believe you. But does she know she is NINETY-FIVE and has already broken one hip?! (pause) She is ninety five and has broken a hip and she is freaking crawling through a window."
Mother: "Yup. She had her leg heisted up into the bathroom window."
Me: "Oh gaw. I don't even want to picture that, Mom. Lovely. (pause) I hope she was standing on the good hip."

pause.

Me: "So...did she get in?!"

more laughter.

Mother: "Well...yes. But only because I was trying to pull her out of the window and John drove by and saw us. He then handed me a copy of the key."

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah lovely.
I surely do hope that if I live to be 95 I am either:

1. In the new system living happily.
or...
2. Someone has invented some really great drugs.

But you know...if flexibility is genetic, I think I'm good.