Silence is golden.

Many moons ago, in a land far, far away, my maternal grandparents were psycho nut-jobs. No lie. If ever two people needed to get the fuck away from each other, it was my Nana and Papaw.

My Papaw was my best bud my whole life. He was a strong man, he was a patient man (at least with us kids) and he was also a miserable man. With apologies to my Mom, my Aunt Elaine, and my Uncle Ronnie, my Nana was a raging bitch who wasn’t happy unless everyone around her was miserable. That is just the way she rolled. I don’t think anyone to this day has figured out what made her so damned mean.

Before Papaw had his stroke in the late 70’s, he could always get away from her. Unfortunately it was usually to get drunk. And of course, Nana, being a bear of very little brain, would poke Papaw’s drunk ass with a stick, figuratively speaking, of course. When that happened it usually involved sharp objects, my parents being called (when we were in town), or someone going to jail.

After the stroke the poor guy was stuck with it. BLAH, BLAH, BLAH, BLAH!!! Hell, writing about it makes ME want to get drunk and violent.

The story I am about to relate was passed to me 2nd, or maybe even 3rd hand:

As the story goes, I guess Nana was being herself and was squabbling with Papaw. I guess he told her to shut the fuck up or he was going to duct tape her mouth shut. True to her nature, Nana kept flapping her gums. And true to his word, my Papaw grabbed his cane, hobbled to the hot water closet in the hall (that was where he kept all the household tools) and grabbed a roll of duct tape. Nana, unawares, and probably patting herself on the back for getting him pissed off, never seen it coming. He taped her whole head; around the mouth, around the head. TAPED. HER. WHOLE. HEAD!!!!!! I guess he left her some holes to breathe through, but the rest was SOLID silver. I have no idea how she got out of it, and I seem to recall that Papaw had a visit from Lubbock’s finest.

I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall for that one. I think anyone who knew my grandmother, God rest her soul, would have had pom-poms and been cheering my Papaw on.

When I ran across the graphic above it instantly made me think of that story.

When Papaw told you to shut the fuck up, you best shut the fuck up.


Note: This post was pre-approved by my Mom. I certainly owed her the right of refusal.

4 Responses to “Silence is golden.”

  1. For a fact they were sicker than nuclear rain! This is my favorite story about them…. hell I could write a book.

  2. fyremandoug Says:

    ………..Dude your Grampa ROCKED!

  3. Now This ain’t No Shit, and this is writing about it nicely, I took a ice pick away from them one time on Christmas Eve. This kind of shit went back as far as I knew them. Why anybody would have lived together all their lives under those conditions is beyond me ——————————————-

    • The incident that Dad is talking about took place when I was the ripe old age of 17…. Yep, it went on forever. Believe it or not they were married 63 years when Daddy passed…. and hated each other the last 40. I think that is the most incredibly sad part of the whole thing.

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