Stubborn is a Chick Named Vi

One thing I loved about getting to know my Gramma as an adult was seeing the adult side of her. Not sweet little gramma I saw on the outside, but the chick inside.

That spunky girl that she still sees when she looks in the mirror.

My gramma used to smoke. A lot. In fact, she was still a smoker when she told me this story.

I knew my grampa did not like the fact that she smoked. It never bothered me. It was a part of her. He hated it.

Apparently, as the story goes, my Gramma was off to go drinking and dancing with her sisters. Back in the day.

And back in the day, she hid her cigarettes in her box of tampons because she new her husband would never look there.

As she got ready, she snuck them into her coat pocket and was all ready to head out. But she ran back to the bathroom for a last minute pee break before getting on the bus.

She came out of the bathroom to find her entire pack of cigarettes crumbled into tiny little bits in a path from the bathroom door to the front door.

Without looking at my Grampa, not even missing a beat she calmly grabbed her coat and walked out the door.

She left that path of mutilated tobacco leaves and paper sit on the carpet for a week.

She never cleaned it up.

Finally, one day, it disappeared. They never talked about it. And do not believe my Grampa never tried that stunt again.

Goddamn my Gramma is an awesome lady.