Grannies, Content Creators, And Trouble-Makers

It was the first time I’d seen my Uncle Tim in a minute. He immediately started busting my chops about “Ooh Mr. Content Creator!” We’re close enough in age that this works on multiple levels. It’s all love.

But then, not long after, he was saying, “OK but you can’t write about THAT.”

So I’m doing what must be done and writing about THAT.

Because it was pretty funny.

And, Mr. Content Creator has content to create, you know?

We were standing in the hall at the nursing home, getting ready to take my grandfather to lunch. My wife, my dad, and some other family were there too. My aunt reminded Tim to “bring dad’s seat cushion” - sending him back into the apartment to get it, while others peeled off to get cars ready and pulled around, etc.

Tim disappeared and we were talking about what was taking so long in the hall. “You think he’s OK?” was uttered more than once. Tim’s a doctor, and in reasonably good health so we weren’t worried but, we were saying it out loud in a nursing home hall.

If anybody had their hearing aid turned up a bit, they could hear us.

Tim finally comes out, cushion in hand, and announces, “Sorry. Somebody had done a bunch of grannies in there. Took me a minute to get out.”

We all started laughing. 3 doors in the hallway opened. Tim was giving us the “wut?” confused look.

Several grandmotherly women poked their heads out into the hall from the freshly opened doors. We laughed harder. I had to break it to him.

“Tim, you realize you just announced somebody was doing a bunch of grannies in there, and every cranked hearing aid in the county just heard you announce it.”

Tim’s head went down. Grandpa’s head went back, laughing. We are all 13 year-olds sometimes.

Tim starts explaining, “Granny KNOTS. Somebody did a bunch of granny knots on the seat cushion. It’s like when - in surgery they teach you how to tie stuff down, and sometimes, when stuff isn’t lined up but it’s still not secure, you just tie a bunch of GRANNY KNOTS to get the job done. All I meant was I had to undo all the ridiculous granny knots to get the cushion off and…”

“Tim, that one’s looking at you, down the hall,”

“Oh, that’s Rosie, you better watch out there Tim. I think her husband taught you civics in high school years ago,”

“You guys are the worst. Matt, I had better not read about this.”

Of all the things we pass down across the generations, an immature sense of humor has to be one of the best.

That’s the story. Also, “oops - Sorry Tim.” Hopefully you don’t mind me leaving your picture and number behind after we left that day either. Content creates itself sometimes. You know?