My grandma, Nona Martin, celebrated a birthday on Monday. I could write a super sappy column in her honor, but instead I’ve decided on humor.
We share a similar sense of humor. I’m really glad she has laughed along with me over the years. Otherwise, growing up could have been a miserable experience. Let me share a few humorous stories from my collection.
It’s no secret that I’ve recruited Grandma on many of my reno endeavors. On one particular tile run to Nashville, Nacho needed three boxes, ASAP. So although we both felt the urge deep in our bladders, in the interest of time, we decided to hold it until we reached Floor & Decor.
Grandma caved first. Insistent that we exit, I pulled into the nearest McDonald’s for a restroom stop. Grandma had that unmistakable waddle causing the employee cleaning tables to look up and ask “Ma’am, are you OK?” I busted out laughing before we even made it to the ladies’ room.
Has this happened before? You bet it has. When we were in California driving up the coast, Grandma and I didn’t realize how long the stretches were in between gas stations. I’m a heavy drinker and had already downed two, 32-ounce Nalgene bottles filled with water. With each mile, the urge grew until suddenly it was a painful ache.
Desperate times call for desperate measures. Like the good ole Southern women we are, we pulled over and hiked up a hill overlooking a cliff and popped a squat. (Ross informed me later that I hadn’t squatted low enough, but oh well!) When we looked behind us, there were wads of toilet paper caught in the undergrowth below causing us to laugh. We weren’t the only ones who’d used that spot!
At the risk of my own humiliation, I’ll share a ridiculous story from my youth. I was a late bloomer in several ways. Impatient and determined to look feminine, I used duct tape one evening in an attempt to create the illusion since a pushup bra wasn’t cutting it. Worst hack ever! Grandma had to help me with the removal process. I just remember laughing and crying at the same time.
Again, there have been countless times Grandma has come to my rescue in circumstances I now laugh at. From somehow getting me out of a dress that was painfully stuck over my head in a dressing room (to the point I was certain I’d need to be cut out) to mixing up a soap concoction to rid my stained clown face of cheap paint markers, she’s always known what to do to remedy the situation.
These are just a few examples and I’m sure my Grandma is reeling at the amount I’ve overshared already. So, if you haven’t already, please wish my fabulous grandmother, aka Nona Gail, a happy belated birthday because without her, I wouldn’t be the transparent Lacy you all know and love!
Standard reporter Lacy Garrison can be reached at 473-2191.