They’re Bookends, I Promise

For various reasons, I did not go to work this week at all. I am saddened to announce that no work means no Friday Field Notes.

I know. I’m crying too.

HOWEVER.

I did stumble across a conversation I had with my Grandma at Christmas last year. I had written it down, saved it as a draft and totally forgot about it. Gram doesn’t know what the internet is, so it’s all good. I’m quite certain it will more than make up for missing Friday Field Notes.

Grandma: What did you get for Christmas?
Me: A purse, a wallet, a cookbook and a set of hooters.

Grandma: What are hooters?
Me: You don’t know what hooters are?
Grandma: No, what are hooters?
Me: They’re bookends.
Grandma: Why do you call bookends hooters?
Me: Ask Dad what hooters are.
Grandma: Why?
Me: Just do it, seriously.
Grandma: Why are you laughing so hard? Dawna, why is your daughter laughing so – hey, why are you laughing?
Me: Just ask him what hooters are, he’ll tell you.
Grandma: Dave, what are hooters?
Dad: Ask Amanda.
Grandma: What are HOOTERS?
Me: Well, it’s also a restaurant.
Grandma: Really, where?
Me: I think there is one in Toronto. Ask one of your friends if they want to go to Hooters sometime. Better yet, call up Josh [my brother] and ask if he wants to go with you to Hooters. I bet he will.
Grandma: I’ve never heard of it. Is it good?
Me: Depends on what you mean by good.
Grandma: But what are hooters?
Me: Bookends. That are owls.
Grandma: Oh HOOTERS! I get it now! But why do you keep laughing?
Me: Don’t you think owls are funny? I certainly do.
Grandma: BUT WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?
Mom: Amanda, you better tell her what hooters are.
Grandma: They’re owls.
Me: Yes, but they are also something else.
Grandma: What?
Me: Well, only ladies have them…
Grandma: OH MY WORD! (holding head) Just! Oh! My land!
Me: …and they’re not ovaries!
Grandma: OH my land! The way you talk! Oh! Well!
Me: Are you going to pray for me?
Grandma: YES. YES I AM.
Grandpa (not hearing any of the last bit of conversation): Are you going to show us your hooters?
Dad: WHOA. Hey now. If you want to do that you have to leave!
Me: You might not want to go to the restaurant either, Grandma. It’s not named after owls.
Grandma: Thanks for letting me know.

So there’s that. Sorry for the lack of Field Notes. But. Maybe I’m not that sorry.

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12 thoughts on “They’re Bookends, I Promise

  1. Oh dear. Yes, I think grandma needs to pray for you all. :>

    I am trying to remember now, because of this, what a particular word was. Because this is reminding me of a mildly awkward conversation in which I had to explain to my parents why my dad might not want to use a particular word that had no bad connotations in his generation but is most commonly used of something very naughty in mine.

    Around where I live, two very common last names are “Gay” and “Rape”. No joke. “Gay” always meant “happy” up until the homosexuals co-opted it sometime in the mid-late 20th century, and “rape” is a plant which has several uses. “Love” is also a pretty common last name. You can pretty much gaurantee that whenever any of those three families intermarry, you are not going to see the bride try to hyphenate her last name. Of the three, the only ones you can joke with about their name safely are the Loves.

  2. “Oh my land,” made me think of “great big tracts of land,” which was appropriate for this whole dialogue. If you don’t get the reference, then, well, I’m sorry.

  3. If nothing else, even if he didn’t know what the conversation was about, your Grandpa has perfect comedic timing. Had me laughing out loud.

  4. Amanda, you just made my day. Also, you really got those….bookends (I can’t do it, I can’t! :) ) for Christmas, right? Because they are adorable. :)

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