Feb. 26: Grandma gives me grey hair

In the words of my grandmother,

Lordy, Lordy, Lordy.

If you've been paying attention, you know that Grandma invents things in her head and then convinces herself they're true. This causes no end of frustration for anyone who knows her. Exacerbating the murder-inciting behavior is her usual whine: "I'm old, I don't know any better!"

That's all you need to know to understand the latest in what I have come to call The Nana Saga™.

About a year and a half ago Grandma got it in her head that Mom would never let her have a cell phone. No one knows where this came from. Our mom is not the boss of our grandma. No one is; Grandma tells us this often. So we all marveled at this latest invention of Grandma's and ignored her whining about it. Then Kathy and I decided to put Mom on one of our family cell phone plans, and we thought it'd make Grandma happy to be put on it too. (We're givers.)

So, not quite 13 months ago Kathy and I presented Grandma with her very own cell phone. It was programmed with all our numbers, photos, custom ringtones, all the stuff a grandma would need. To put it mildly, she was ecstatic, and we had to keep reminding her not to get too excited because she has a problem with bladder control. (Just like a cocker spaniel... if only she were as nice as one...)

Long story short, Grandma went on my family cell plan. Although I would have been fine with absorbing the additional cost of her service, Mom suggested I have Grandma take on the responsibility of paying for it herself. Our plan increased approximately $13/month when we added her, and she was glad to pay it. She was also told repeatedly that I had to sign a two-year contract for her phone and we would have to pay one meellion dollars to AT&T if/when we cancelled her service and/or she died. She started sending me semi-monthly (read: "when she felt like it") checks. Sometimes they were for $13. Sometimes they were for $10. Sometimes they were not written to me, and sometimes my name was spelled almost correctly. I didn't care. I may be an evil granddaughter but I'm not going to nag Grandma about $13.

When Grandma lost her phone I suspended the service to her number, but was still paying for it, of course. When she later found the phone in her coat pocket I restarted the service. I found it amusing that while she had again been reminded that we couldn't get out of her two-year contract just because she lost her phone, she still thought she didn't need to pay for it that month. No checkie for Jen-Jen.

Victor and I laughed at how, of our four numbers, Grandma's phone used up more minutes than any other. It was like we had a teenager all of a sudden. I think she probably just dialed numbers by sitting on her coat pocket (the idea of Grandma making a booty call makes me shudder). Our rollover minutes, which we had never needed before, suddenly became very valuable.

Those rollover minutes are long-gone, but no matter. Although her initial justification for needing a cell phone ("so I can be reached anywhere!") has not changed, the novelty has apparently worn off. Grandma got a land line and has been using her cell phone less.

And then yesterday I received this little beauty in the mail:

Hi Jen: Just wanted to let you know. I will not be sending you any more $13 a month for the phone I have been paying for for three years. I cannot afford it. Sorry, I will keep the phone. I figure it is paid for by now. I wish it didn't happen this way, but that is the way it is. Thank you very much. Love, Grandma

I don't care about the $13. I don't care that she has somehow turned 13 months into three years. I don't care that she's insane. Know what makes me mad about this? I hate that she makes me feel like I'm cheating her. Like I'm making her pay for something that she shouldn't. Like how DARE I ask her to spend her hard-earned retirement income on her phone. Like I'm taking her occasional $13 and investing it in my new summer home.

Apparently this is what's in Grandma's moldy old noodle:

• I've had this phone for three years
  
• Which means I've paid over $300 for it
  
• It is somehow different than an old fashioned dialie phone in that I only have to pay for the phone, not the service and lord knows I've already paid enough
  
• I don't want to pay for this anymore
  
• So I'm not gonna.
  
• Also, almost everyone is out to get me
  
• Bud has never caused me a minute of trouble; he is the perfect son and the only one that truly loves me ("Bud" is my Uncle Paul and while he is certainly a delightful person, well, I'm just going to trail off here...)
  
• Jen is mean
  
• Kathy is mean
  
• Mary is mean
  
• It is not necessary to confirm any of this

The funny thing is, Mom says Grandma's still using the phone. The mean granddaughter in me wants to suspend her service (you won't pay? You won't get a phone!). But I'm afraid that if she dies without it then whoever finds her won't be able to pry the phone off her cold dead body and call me immediately so I can start doing my happy dance. I wouldn't want to miss a single minute of that happy dance. (Confession: I've already started doing it a little)

The other thing I've considered is reminding her that the contract goes through the end of January 2009, so if she doesn't want to pay for the service she needs to send me a check for the penalty fee. Maybe send her a copy of the contract. Maybe send her a copy of my friggin' bill WITH and WITHOUT her phone. Maybe include a flesh-eating virus in the envelope for good measure.

Alright, you wise acres. Tell me what to do. But here are the rules:

1. I am not going to call her on the phone.
   
2. Don't make me be nice.

You may now proceed with your advice.