Keep up the good work.

I just called Gram.  She answered on the second ring. Impressive.  Her first question was, "when ya comin' home?"  I told her I would be home for the boys birthday.  "That'll be good!"  She screamed.  I asked if she watched Grey's Anatomy.  She said, "Yeah, I feel better."  I told her that was great.  I asked again (as though it were the first time) if she watched Grey's.  "No, I've been watching baseball."  Baseball is her life.

Gram asked where I was.  I was in the middle of screaming that I was at my apartment when she asked me another question. I was still screaming into the mouthpiece when she repeated herself. She enunciated every word as though I were the one with the hearing problem.  "WHAT. IS. YOUR. MOTHER. UP. TO?"  I told her I didn't know since she didn't call me back.  (Thanks, Kath.)  I asked Gram what she had for supper.  I say supper, because Gram considers lunch as dinner.  She had a grinder.  "MARY BOUGHT ME A GRINDER."  Last weekend when I was out with Gram, I asked her what she had for supper the night before.  She said, "some ice cream bars.  You know, Klondike."  I acted as though that were something I would never do and said that probably wasn't too healthy.  She then asked me what I had.  "Wine," I replied.  A smug look formed on her face after my response. We don't judge each other.

I was in the middle of screaming another question when Gram said, "KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK! LOVE YA, DEAR!"

I told her I loved her too, but not before she hung up to watch more baseball.

Here's a video of Phyllis about a year ago with my nephew, Nicholas.  Classic Gram.