My one-time smoothie shop with the grands has been bulldozed to make way for a tire shop. To memorialize this demise I am recounting its connection with the day I was the worst grandmother. Enjoy!
Smoothies, anyone?
Along Highway 24 is a coffee kiosk that sells smoothies. It is a mile from the elementary school, where this Grandma and a two-year-old pick up the kindergartener and second grader.
The girls are starved after school, so what better place than a convenient drive-through for smoothies? But I should have been more observant. Soon I will become the day’s worst grandmother.
Friendly Barista
“Hi there! What would you like?” says the friendly barista at the window.
I am almost speechless. She is wearing white panties and a craft-project bra, displaying red, green, blue, and gold sequins. She is so poised. I am so confused.
“Umm, what kind of smoothies do you have?” I try to act like I order smoothies with my grandchildren every day from a woman in underwear.
She cheerfully recites the flavors. I turn to the girls with shocked eyes and flushed face. Their sheepish smiles tell me they are counting on Grandma for behavior cues. Casually, I take their orders and recite them back to our barista.
Ah, No Problem?
“No problem, “ she says, turning around to make the drinks– her buttocks exposed.
Oh my goodness, it’s a thong! Is this establishment even sanitary enough?
The thong is just too much (or too little). I turn to the girls, who wear big smiles. I want to laugh, but roll my eyes. We must keep it together.
The second grader asks, “Grandma, what’s the name of this place?”
I never thought to look before, but raising my head to the sign I see “EspreXsso” and the black silhouettes of women in bikinis. Inner groan.
The barista returns with one whipped cream, Strawberry-Bananna smoothie—just two more to go.
“What grade are you in, sweetie?” she asks, bending out the window revealing more cleavage. The kindergartener answers.
“Oh, my son is in kindergarten too. He’s attending the same school I did.” (This particular school is miles from her work place.)
I ask, “Is he as tired as the girls are–after going to school all day?”
“Oh yes, but I’m so glad he likes it.” She turns to finish our order.
I give her a big tip, but can’t resist asking, “Aren’t you cold?”
“Oh no, there’s a heater in here.”
Grandmother’s Sage Advice
As we drive away, I bluster, “Girls, Grandma should have never taken you there! I am sorry. I don’t think women should run around making smoothies in their underwear! And, I hope you never have to get a job like that!” (Okay, these weren’t words of sensitivity or wisdom, but that is what spilled out.)
Tummy Jewelry
“I liked her belly button jewel,” casually replies the five-year-old.
We make a bathroom stop at the library, where I have to squelch jokes about exposed panties. Then we go to the park.
The second grader asks, “Are you going to tell Mommy where you took us?”
“Of course I am!” I reply.
And later, it wasn’t easy, but I did.
