I took Granma to the doctor the other day. As we were waiting in the examining room.....mostly in silence....... all of a sudden.......as if God had opened up the flood gates of heaven........Granma beaks out into song. "I've A Story To Tell To The Nations", "Shall We Gather At The River" and "When We All Get To Heaven". It was fun and really made the time fly by.
When the doctor was done poking and prodding, Granma looked him square in the eyes and put her crooked pointer finger in his face and said, "Who takes care of you?" To which the doctor did not reply. He excused himself from the room and as he was walking out the door.........Granma reached out and patted him on the butt. He didn't flinch, squeek, squeal, turn around.......nothing......he just walked out closing the door behind him. That was it.......... There you have it.......... Done and Dusted...........The exam was over, medicines prescribed........................Ladies and Gentlemen........The Doctor has left the room. Maybe he didn't like our singing?
Wow! She's a sport.
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