I frequently call my Grandma Dee.
"How can YOU stand to talk to her so much?" my mother asks.
I call because I like her stories. It is always something.
Most of her stories begin with, "You know Marcelene Brennigan, don't you?"
I never know any of the characters of her stories. But they all start with a name and brief biography.
"Marcelene married Harold Huleskamp. They lived over by the old farm house. They had fifteen children. The middle boy, Rod, was in your mother's class? You know Marcelene. I know you do."
After we run down her busy schedule (doctor and beauty shop appointments) and what's new with the family (birth, death, divorce) she often reports what's going on in area news.
It was early this year when she nonchalantly announced, "The woman who sat on her stool for two years lives down the road!"
"She sat on the pot so long she got stuck to it."
"Her skin grew into the toilet seat."
"Her boyfriend finally called the police."
I did what I'm sure most people do after talking to their grandmothers, I googled. And sure enough, it was all over the news.
So you can imagine my surprise when once again, today, the boyfriend of the woman who was stuck to the toilet seat and lives down the road from grandmother made headlines. He was in the news for winning the lottery.
It was his second win.