It was only after I finished tucking the Kleenex into the bottom of my sleeve that I realized I have passed right over those girlhood fears of “becoming my mother” and morphed into my grandmother.
Which is all right because, Kleenex issues aside, she was a pistol.
My grandma does the same thing. She used to maintain it was used in the left, clean in the right, but we all know that she's full of crap...and Kleenex.
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