Nurture
My Nana has been quite sick for some time. Ever since moving to Colorado, her health has been poor. She even had hospice care during 2002, but was one of the very few patients who ever "graduate" from hospice by staying alive. We call her The Energizer Bunny.
My Dad and I always call her when we are together. Last Sunday, on our way to a baseball game, we thought we'd call as we were passing her old house. Give her an update on the place.
"Oo," I said, "Let's make up some weird shit to tell her."
"Oo, 'it burned down!'" replied my Dad, like a twisted f*k.
"You twisted f*k," I said. "I meant like, an old truck off its wheels in the front yard." This did not stop me from giggling uncontrollably, imagining all the possibilities of the burned-down-house scenario. I am my father's daughter.
Of course, Nana is his mother. You'd be able to hear her rolling her eyes, even over the cell phone, all the way from Colorado.