Most of you will remember stories involving my wee Scottish Granny. She’s the funniest, most amazing woman I know who just happens to have balls of steel. She cares not what she says or who she says it to, one of the reasons why I love her sooooo much.
During her last visit I took her with me to the bank. We sat in a stuffy waiting room, surrounded by people sitting in silence, playing on their phones and watching the customer number slowly getting closer to the number they held in their hand.
I’ve written our conversation in my best Scottish accent, please feel free to read it wearing a kilt, eating haggis is optional.
Gran (In the loudest whisper she could muster): See that wee fella sitting serving people in front o us?
Me (Sliding down in my chair in a half-assed attempt to hide): Shhhhh – Yes?
G (Stepping up the volume): I have never in my life seen eyebroos that meet like that
M (Sending an apologetic look towards the bank teller): Shhhh Gran, he can hear you
G: Aye but hen, have you ever seen eyebroos like that?
M (Pleading for the ground to swallow me): No Gran. Shhhhh
G: Well I hope we dunnae have to go and see him
G: You kenn what they say?
M (Sigh): No Gran, what do they say?
G: Beware o the man whose eyebroos meet, for in his heart there lays deceit
Fortunately we didn’t get the eyebrow-meeting-liar and we left the bank whilst listening to the giggles of the others customers.
Gotta love her.