Demon Baby has only one Grandma. Technically, he does have two, but his paternal grandmother so loathes me she cut all four children out of her life nearly 11 years ago. As this blog attests . . . I don't know how you could NOT want a Demon Baby to love, but so it is. He doesn't really know who she is or that she exists, and it is very much her loss since he is so special. Hence, in Demon Baby's world there is ONE Grandma.
So two days ago, he was my helper in the kitchen and the following conversation ensued.
"What are we making?"
"Vietnamese rice paper rolls with peanut sauce."
"WHAT are you DOING with my peanut butter [aside, his favorite food]?!?!?!?!" [second aside, there was a note of hysteria to his voice.]
"Turning it into a sauce."
"You'll see. Now . . . we're going to take this leftover chicken and cut it into pieces to stuff inside the rolls."
"You know who makes chicken sandwiches?"
"No, but I'm sure you will tell me."
"Pop." [my father]
"Yeah, but I gotta tell you, Pop is not a good cooker. You know what he does? He puts a ton of salt on his chicken sandwiches. And he makes the counter a mess." [true.]
"Hmm. Well, I am sure it's because he can't see the counter well." [my father is blind, and when he comes to stay for a few weeks, I think it's hard because my kitchen countertops are very dark.]
"You know who is a REALLY good cooker?"
"Who?" [I was hoping for ME.]
"His mother!" [i.e., his WIFE, my mother, Demon Baby's lone Grandma.]
"Yeah. The lady with the white hair. Now, let me tell you, SHE can cook a chicken."
"I know. She used to cook for me when I was your age."
"You were never my age."
"And Pop's mother cooked for you?"
"Did she make you noodles with butter?"
"And those little pizzas?"
"Did she give you ice cream?"
"Pop's mother is the best."
"Is she coming to live with us for Christmas again?"
"Yes. For a few weeks. Her and Pop."
"Will she cook?"
"All right. Just tell her to keep Pop out of the kitchen. He's too messy with the salt."
And of course, then the IRONY struck me. Here was a DEMON BABY telling me a 75-year-old grandfather of eleven was too MESSY. Approximately 5 minutes after this conversation took place, Demon Baby accidentally dumped a box of Life cereal on the floor in the family room. But at least he doesn't get salt on the kitchen counters.