A woman goes to her boyfriend’s parents’ house for dinner. This is tobe her first time meeting the family and she is very nervous. They all sit down and begin eating a fine meal.
The woman is beginning to feel a little discomfort, thanks to her nervousness and the broccoli casserole. The gas pains are almost making her eyes water. Left with no other choice, she decides to relieve herself a bit and lets out a dainty fart.
It wasn’t loud, but everyone at the table heard thepouf. Before she even had a chanceto be embarrassed, her boyfriend’s father looked over at the dog that had been snoozing at the woman’s feet and said in a rather stern voice, “Skippy!”. The woman thought, “This is great!” and a big smile came across her face. A couple of minutes later, she was beginning to feel the pain again.
This time, she didn’t even hesitate. She let a much louder and longer fart rip. The father again looked and the dog and yelled, “Dammit Skippy!” Once again the woman smiled and thought “Yes!”. A few minutes laterthe woman had to let another one rip.
This time she didn’t even think about it. She let rip a fart that rivaled a train whistle blowing! Once again, the father looked at the dog with disgust and yelled, ”Dammit Skippy, get away from her before she shits on you!”
My Granddaughter Forced Me Out for Getting Married at 80 — I Couldn’t Stand the Disrespect & Gave Her a Lesson to Remember
After my granddaughter ousted me for marrying at 80, I couldn’t accept her disrespect. Together with my new husband, Harold, we crafted a bold plan to teach her an unforgettable lesson, culminating in a family-altering confrontation.
I never imagined sharing this tale, but here it is. My name is Margaret, and I celebrated my 80th birthday last spring. I resided in a small, personalized room within my granddaughter Ashley’s home, surrounded by keepsakes of my life.
“Morning, Grandma,” Ashley would say, bursting into my room unannounced. She never knocked.
“Morning, dear,” I’d reply, tidying up my space. “What’s the hurry?”
“We’re off to the park with the kids. Need anything?”
“No, I’m good. Enjoy your day.”
After she rushed off, I reflected alone. I couldn’t complain much; after all, I had sold my house to fund her college education after her parents died tragically when she was 15.
I took her in and strived to provide a good life. Now, she lived here with her husband, Brian, and their two children, in a home that was always bustling.
Things took a turn when I met Harold at the community center months ago. He was charming, always with a camera around his neck. Our chats soon became the highlight of my week, offering a second shot at love.
One day, while Ashley was at work, I decided to share my news. I found her in the kitchen that evening, busy with a recipe book.
“Ashley, I have something to tell you,” I started.
She looked up, “What is it, Grandma?”
“I’ve met someone. His name is Harold, and… he proposed.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Proposed? You mean, marriage?”
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