You Have A Three Car Garage

"I'll bet you have a humongous house in California," said the woman sitting next to me. We were waiting to hear Roelof Uys talk to us about his pottery and how it can be used to cook and eat out of. It is one of the things he is noted for, and one of the reasons this lady came that day. I heard her telling someone.

"Well..." I hesitated, not wanting to talk about what kind of house I did or did not have. 

"And I'll bet you have a 3 car garage," she continued.

Well, it was true that I had a 3 car garage, but -

"And you have 3 humongous cars inside of it."

Well now that was not true. But I didn't think it worth mentioning, so I sat there looking for an exit. There were several other things about myself that she knew, but then Roelof was introduced, and the lady next to me became silent. The talk began.


It was a really good talk until everyone got really uncomfortable because - guess who started interrupting him!? There must be a protocol for what to do when public meetings like this go creepily south. But my mind was drawing a blank!

It reminded me of when I was teaching school, and right in the middle of a lesson on verbs one of the boys dropped his great big text book with a 'bang!' onto the tiled floor.

I jumped a little, but gathered up my nerves and picked up his book. The lecture continued.

'Bang!' went another of his great huge text books. It sounded like a gun shot.

"Christopher. Stop." He looked innocently up at me. "Yes Ma'am," he said sweetly.

The lecture continued, but I knew what would happen. And then it happened.


'BANG!!!' 

"CHRISTOPHER!!"

"Ma'am?" he asked.

"Knock it off."

"What if I don't?" he asked.

"I'll tell you exactly what will happen if you don't," I said, ominously. "I'm going to CALL YOUR GRANDMOTHER." I slowly took out my special cell phone, the cell phone that made nasty calls to people's grandmothers who might take certain, helpful, 'steps'.

"Oh no!" said Christopher. "Anyone but my Granny! Call my mama instead." Calling his grandmother must have been the equivalent to throwing him in the briar patch.

"No," I said. "I'm not going to call your mama, or your auntie, or anyone else except YOUR GRANDMOTHER."

Now THAT worked.

I love grannies, don't you? And briar patches.

We need more of both.


See you along the way!
the SconeLady