My grandfather, at 88 years old, has earned the right be an ornery old coot and contradict himself all the time. He loves playing the skeptic and arguing with anyone about anything, all in love of course, but he’d much prefer to be right at the end.
Know the type?
Not all of them have earned their ornery-ness in so many decades, am I right?
Anyway – my grandfather seems to particularly get his bristles up when I mention food and natural health topics out of the mainstream, like going gluten-free (“How can that help anybody? I ate gluten all my life…”) or using unrefined sea salt (“Don’t bring that dirty salt into my house!”).
Kid you not.
I just let him roll on with it and love him to pieces anyway – he fathered three incredible children, one of whom is my spectacular, talented, and wise mother, and he loves all his kids, grandkids and greats over the moon. He just likes an argument.
Last summer when he picked a fight with a hornets’ nest under the eaves, however, his direct quote was this:
“I’ve lived a lot of years on this earth, but I NEVER realized what the phrase ‘mad as a hornet’ really meant until tonight!!”
His battle wounds included a number of stings on his beloved bald head and a nasty looking red one right on his nose (ouch!).
I happened to have a tube of Redmond Clay with me (because I always have one with me) and after he’d tried an ice cube and maybe a few other things, I offered a dab of clay.
For the record, I didn’t tell him it’s from the same company as the “dirty salt,” aka Real Salt, but I think he’ll forgive that now.
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