As I approached after church, Vera was talking with her Italian hands to her 3 equally ancient friends. Knowing how many times she had made good-natured fun of me, I stood behind her so that all the others could see. I copied her hand motions as best I could (after all, only an Italian can “talk” like THAT!). My head lobbed up and down and back and forth and all around, just like Vera’s. I tried my best to silently mimic her speedy mouth, pontificating about whatever her passion was that day.
As the others enjoyed the show, Vera realized that something was going on behind her back. Spinning like a 16 year-old, she caught me in the act and immediately quipped the perfect reprimand, something like, “Oh, Colleen, give it up! You’ll never be Italian!”
My son Nick was with me, and he immediately evaluated the situation as an opportunity to rerun one of the many times he has bantered with his Crazy Grandma (her name for herself!). “Hold up there! I don’t know you, but you don’t need to be dissin’ my mama like that!” Nick said to Vera.
Not a nanosecond passed before she was in the game, “Yeah, big fellow! And what are you going to do about it, huh?”
Nick backed up with a grin and started the boxing dance with his dukes up! “Ah, you don’t even want to see, little girl! Try me!”
In the end, no one was hurt, and a great time was had by all. We could have charged admittance for that impromptu scene and gotten rich, or at least called it a fundraiser for the Senior’s Program at the church!
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