I have a new addiction: The Tab energy drink. Is it good? Very. Is it good for me? Very likely not, as evidence by the fact that my hands are actually shaking right now. Woo, what a rush. Then again, the shaking could just be my genetics hitting early. By the time I’m my dad’s age I’ll be drinking everything through a straw because I won’t be able to hold a cup steady; by the time I’m grandpa’s age I’ll be shaking so much I’ll probably begin to levitate.
Speaking of my grandpa, here’s a “fun” story at my expense, which is bound to be repeated by my family members at every major gathering for the next ten years:
Shortly after I returned to the States, I went to visit Grandpa as is my granddaughterly duty. He was really confused, as is his right as an 86 year old. As I was leaving my aunt Jane caught me and said, “He’s just confused because of the twins.” I stared at her, thinking, I didn’t know Grandpa was a baseball fan.
“Excuse me?” I asked.
“Oh, my cousin had twin girls, Rachel and Kristi.”
I laughed. Well, how creative, I thought, one name is mine and one is grandpa’s other granddaughter’s.
Then Jane went on, “After we told him that, he got confused and thought you died.”
What? I’m not sure how he made that connection, but thought that was the end of it (I hoped my visit proved I am certainly not dead). The next day, however, I got a call from my mother.
“Just thought you should know – Grandpa’s telling people you had a baby in Europe.”
“Well, you told him I didn’t, right?”
No response. Just laughter.
You know what – that’s just great. I’m not even that surprised; this is the sort of thing that just has to happen to someone, and that someone has to be me. Fine. Just wake me up when my name is Shaquana and my grandfather has stopped spreading rumours about me.