My Grandma Harris was the sweetest little old lady you would ever want to meet.
She was the picture of what a grandma is supposed to be.
But she was definitely MY Grandma.
I have three favorite memories that prove it.
I used to tickle my Grandma’s feet when she was sitting in her chair watching TV and hooking her rugs.
She’d giggle and wiggle; and tell me to stop.
And when I did, she’d tell me, “Now smell your fingers.”
I still use that phrase to this day – usually when someone tries to goose me or otherwise put their hands on my bottomly parts.
Growing up in Michigan, in the winter, you keep some kind of blanket in your car – just in case you get stuck in the snow, you won’t freeze to death.
I had a full size comforter that lived in my backseat.
And it usually was in residence all year, because that’s how lazy I am.
One day, my Grandma goes out to my car, looks in the backseat and says, “What’re you doing now? Setting up curb service?”
For a long time, I thought I might end up in New York City. I wore subway tokens on a chain around my neck as my “good luck” charms, knowing that I would always have subway fare if that is where I was living.
Of course, when performing, I had to remove the chain.
One day, I forgot to put it back on, and I said, “Oh my God, I forgot to put on my thingies.”
And my Grandma responded, “And all those years, I thought they were real!”
God (that I don’t believe in), I miss that woman.