My Grandmother's Armoire

I have one remaining piece of business to wrap up with the ex. My grandmother's armoire, in our family for well over 50 years, still sits in her house—specifically in her bedroom.

A couple of months ago, while delivering yet more of her things, I decided to check on the condition of this piece. I opened up the door to find one of HIS shirts hanging in it. This went all over me. I felt that this was terribly disrespectful and thoughtless. I mean, how COULD she hang his SHIT in my grandmother's armoire?? Christ Almighty! I could just see my grandmother spinning in her grave like a Whirling Dervish.

So, I decided to do what any self-respecting Italian bitch would do in this situation. I decided to call my grandmother, all 4'10" of her, back from the dead to handle this for me.

I have requested that next time they are "at it", she exit from the armoire, grab the back of both of their heads, and clunk them together so hard, it knocks both of them clean out. That'll learn 'em good I think. Can you just see them coming to and wondering what in the hell happened? Once she does the deed, I figure Nonna can go back to be with God. But for now, I need her to twist their melons just a bit before I send my brother and nephew to pick that armoire up and deliver it to me.

The Smackin' Heads Angry Lesbian

01/30/06