Square Fugs

Hey Granny! What are you doing out of the house?

Oh, sorry, SJP — it’s just you. The fuzzy cardigan and prim little bun confused me. I thought you were about to offer me some General Foods International Coffee and ask if I wanted to watch Days with you, while spying on the neighbors during commercial breaks and looking over your bank statements (the answer to that is: yes). And now I guess I’ve earned myself a visit from the Great Beyond tonight, when my grandma decides to pop back down to earth and inform me that she would NEVER wear two-toned hose designed to look like a knee-length leggings/stockings combo or a dress that looks like a bedsheet, especially with that cardigan tossed over it. Then I’d ask her after the rest of my dead relatives, which I assume she will dismiss with an eye roll, and then she’d yell at me to hurry up and get married because my eggs are drying up, and THEN she’d tell me to forget that, because men are more trouble than they’re worth, and then we’d make deviled eggs and then I’d tell her to say hello to Elvis for me, and she’d tell me that Elvis IS ALIVE, and then that mystery would finally be solved. So, thanks, SJP — I’ve been wanting to catch up with my grandma for ages.