Grandmother’s Tongue

Grandmother arrived unannounced, again. She had her turmoil filled suitcases and her sharp devil’s tongue in tow. She had made herself at home, as usual, and worked her way into the bathroom. My mother and father were in the kitchen talking. They always had conversations in the kitchen when they thought no one was in earshot. The problem was they weren’t too good with whispering, especially my mother who tended to get a loud when she was angry. I was in the dining room, watching the drama unfold.

“ I’ll clean the dishes, don’t worry about it.” My father said, emptying the leftovers into…