Lonnie and the Doctor

I've been telling my 85 year old mother, Lonnie, over the years she was really no match for her mother.  I meant this in terms of what kinds of ridiculous behavior she exhibited as a grandmother towards my son, George, compared to my Nana, her mother.

No contest, I would always tell her.  My Nana let me do things, like play with matches, light her cigarettes, stay up way past bedtime, and on and on.  Lonnie would be in tears, worrying her mother was training a criminal.  Lonnie did treat George in a much saner way, and as I look back on being watched by Nana, I guess she knew best.  The worst I could do against the law was a couple of speeding tickets.

George is also a solid citizen at age 28, and has a similar criminal record to mine.  If my mother were to reach the behavioral status of her mother, she would have to do it on her own, without using George as a foil.

Well, the other day, she finally did it.

While in her doctor's office for a routine check up, the doctor commented how well Lonnie was doing, and how she didn't look nearly her age (she doesn't).  With this, Lonnie said to the doctor,

"Doctor, I know I'm in pretty good shape, I feel well, and I've had a very full life.  But there's one thing I've missed you can help me with.  I'm 85 years old, and I've never tried pot.  I want you to give me a script for medical marijuana.  I want to have a pot party, and you're invited."

The doctor almost needed a doctor to help catch her breath, as she couldn't ease her laughter.  The nurses came to her aid, and to witness the commotion, as the laughter went viral through the rest of the office.

All Lonnie could say to this, with a straight face, was "OK, you're all invited."

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