Shortly after my grandpa, J2, had a stroke he was making the annual pilgramage south via airplane when disaster struck. He shit his pants and ever since has refused to get on an airplane, understandably so. Luckily he is doing better - sharp as can be. Now, we take turns driving them to their winter home.
But whether or not they really needed me, I wanted to go. They really are great. I got out of that car after two full days of driving energized and giddy because I had been laughing constantly. I’m truly grateful I had the opportunity to be their chauffeur.
- Pricka: (after I took the reins, my dad tried to describe the cities I would be passing through) Jesus, you would make a piss poor Mexican.
- J2: Look at all of those houses. They all look the same. If you were drunk you would never be able to find your house.
- Pricka: That Rachel Maddow is a first class bitch.
- J2: Talk about calling the kettle black. I think she tried out every guy in [hometown].
- Pricka: J! Don't talk like that!
- J2: Oh, sorry. She may have missed one or two
- Pricka: (from the backseat to my dad, who is not named simon) You are messing up, mister. (to me) Hold on, I have to tell Simple Simon what to do. (to my father, her son-in-law) Let's see if we can mess this up, too.
- and the winner....
- (before even leaving the driveway)
- Pricka: I just have one thing to say before we leave...
- J2: Good, I'm glad we got that over with.