Monday, April 05, 2010

Breakfast at Grandma's

Two weekends in a row, I've been at Grandma's.  First for her sister's funeral and this weekend for Easter. 

Visiting Grandma is always an adventure.  It is usually about 26 C (78 F) in her apartment, so you need two forms of clothes -- one set for outdoors and one set for indoors.  Usually, I immediately throw off any sweater or socks as soon as I walk in the door, because I will melt.  I go through my spare room and remove most of the blankets (there are always three on the bed.  More in the closet if you get cold) and then I set up my stuff.

Because of the new gluten-free diet, I've had to bring some of my own food to Grandma's.  I knew that, despite having explained it to her the week prior, I would have to explain my food choices again.  I mean, despite having told her something 5 minutes prior, I usually have to explain it 5 - 10 times again.  I brought hard-boiled eggs, yogurt, and some wheat free cereal. 

Grandma was horrified I would have brought my own food.  Grandma is from a generation of women who need to be the perfect hostess.  The Perfect Hostess always has enough food for her guests.  I explained to Grandma it wasn't that she didn't have enough, it was that I couldn't eat it.  I didn't expect her to have things available for me.  I thought she understood.

I was wrong.

I woke up every morning to the counter covered in breads, buns, muffins, cakes, etc. with a note that said "Help yourself" in crinkly, shaky, old lady writing.  Every morning, I put it all away and sat down to my egg, yogurt and cereal.

It was like she was taunting me.

5 comments:

  1. It's just like talking to my mother. I've been divorced from my most recent husband for going on 6 years. Every time I visit my mother in the home she asks me how my ex is doing? "Fine, I guess" is my response. She doesn't understand why I don't know how he is doing since we are living together and married and all that. I explain each time that we are divorced but five minutes later she can't remember. Thing is, she never liked him until now.

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  2. Did you ask her if the bakery stuff was gluten-free, Bronwyn?
    Maybe she cooked some good stuff for ya.

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  3. Jen: It's been years with the same conversations. Poor Grandma. She doesn't even know.

    BoLuke: Nope. I didn't ask. I'm pretty sure it wasn't.

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  4. Tanya doesn't understand either. How can you not eat bread? Bread and meat are (the stuff of life). She thinks Canadian doctors are crazy and terrible. (She doesn't believe in depression either).

    But don't worry, when you come and see us you will get lots of vegetables and potatoes, rice and meat. We have been working on menus for Ky and you.

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  5. Tanya's response reminds me of the movie Everything is Illuminated, where the American's in Ukraine, trying to explain to his innkeepers that he doesn't eat any meat: "Not even sausage?" they keep asking.

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Crap monkies say "what?"