She Gets Me

It's a beautiful thing to know someone so well that they just "get" you.

Yesterday morning I hopped online early to record attendance for the week. I discovered that my oldest, now a senior in high school, had been working on his online application to Pitt.

He didn't even tell me he was willing to apply there.

I was ecstatic. I did "the pierogi dance" and vowed to call my grandmother. She would understand.

"Pitt! And he's willing to play football for them!" "And, he is thinking about Penn State again."

"Really?!," she asked."That's wonderful!"

I knew she would get it.

I come from a loooooong line of Penn State graduates. My great aunt was crowned "Miss Penn State" before she became the model for an illustrated Jiff Peanut Butter advertisement.

We love Pittsburgh.

I'm so grateful to still be able to call Grandma. She understands my lifestyle (hungry boys, lots of laundry).

She laughs at my jokes.

Sometimes I tell jokes to people and they look at me with a puzzled stare. For instance, at a work luncheon I recently announced that "I met John and Mary's (pizza) at Fisher Price." That statement works in Spanish but comes out sounding weird in English. I'm speaking Spanish a lot these days, at least in my head.

Or last night, I was describing OT to my mother-in-law, explaining how some of the patients get arm and shoulder messages as part of their therapy. "What, I asked, do I have to do to get prescription?!" (Instead, I get to insert my arm into a strange dry whirlpool machine filled with ground up corn).

That blank look again.

Oh well.

Grandma loves cats. I don't.
She understands football and stocks. I don't.
She gets me when most people don't. Thank goodness.