I have never been to the lake with penis cakes and penis straws before.
There’s a bachelorette party going down. The bachelorette is my cousin, Jennifer.
Jennifer is loud. Not in-your-face-intimdating-loud, just funny loud. She can alter her voice to speak in high pitches. She does a hilarious impression of an infant cooing. Her laugh is infectious. She’s a red-head. The real pretty type of red hair, the kind that is impossible for any one to replicate with dye. She has fair skin and hazel-greenish eyes. She’s beautiful.
Jennifer and I look nothing alike. No one would probably believe us that we are true cousins.
But we share one hell of a wild grandma. Our grandma, in her 80s, is on her game. She quick and witty. I’ve heard stories about her drinking men under the table in her younger days. She loves whiskey. She has a cocktail before every dinner. She speaks her mind – she may not hear your response, but she’ll still tell you how it is. She drinks and fast dances in-a-slow-kind-of-way at weddings. She’s been known to make-out with my husband…on my wedding day…during the money dance…everyone’s eyes on her. She likes attention.
My Grandma’s marriage advice on my wedding day: The most important thing you can keep in the bedroom, next to the bed, is a box of Kleenex.
It’s fair advice. I just didn’t want to hear it from my Grandmother. But like I said, she’s wild.
Jennifer and I are lucky; the genes we share are from this woman. I enjoyed bachelorette shopping for Jennifer. And I know Jennifer will enjoy my basket of fun. And Kleenex.
I am passing along Grandma’s advice – keep a box of Kleenex by your bed.