Hardcore grannyMature

The only thing keeping me going was the radio. If I didn’t have that, then I think I would have downed myself in washing-up liquid. Just when I thought it was over another pile would arrive, I kept grim look off my face knowing that Gran was watching, even though her back was turned.

“A good day’s work, that’s what children your age today need,” she would say when the news was talking about teenagers getting into trouble, “they have too much time on their hands.”

I love my Gran and so does everyone else. But you didn’t want to get on the wrong side of her. Last summer, a biker came passing through the town, revving his bike outside her café like he was on grand theft auto. So, fed up with the noise my Gran marches outside, everyone stops eating and talking…the atmosphere grows then a collective gasp as my Gran snatches the keys from the bike and drops them into her piny.

I smile remembering the look on his face drop as my Gran has a ‘word’ and eventually giving him his keys back. He made a quick escape and needless to say we haven’t had many bikers pass through since.  

“Need to use a little more elbow grease with that pan,” I jumped hearing her voice from behind.

“Jeez where did you creep up from?” I replied turning to face my Gran, she was not some fray old woman as some may assume, she was made of tough stuff my Gran and warm yet keen eyes that never missed a trick.

“Need to keep your wits about you. Oh give that pan to me.” She came tottering over to the sink.

“I’ve only just started on it.” I say but I know it’s no use and step away giving her more space and unload the dishwasher. “Can I…go and take my break now please?”

“Take the afternoon, you look tired.” Gran gives me a side glance putting the pan on the side.

“Yeah blame jet-lag and Fang.” I yawn taking my apron off. “I went to go and get him some milk.”

“Anything happen on the way?” I froze. It was an innocent question…yet.

“No why?”

“Oh nothing,” she said casually making me relax and I reached up on the hook to untangle my bag. “Only I noticed that your blue conversers where muddy this morning. Why did you take the forest path?”

It takes me a moment to compose my face and I turn seeing those dark brown questioning eyes.

“Heard it was a good place for a teddy bear’s picnic,” I make my escape then, but not before hearing her say, “a picnic indeed.”

The End

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